


Brave Face

by Akarri



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Animal Attack, Chimeras, Dad hugs, Gen, Harm to chimeras, Hurt/Comfort, I'm bullying Ed again, Parental Roy Mustang, Trauma, Whump, that resemble animals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28397076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akarri/pseuds/Akarri
Summary: Rumors of strange animal attacks are spreading like wildfire throughout East City. With the Tucker incident fresh on his mind, Ed can’t help but feel the events are somehow connected and, much to Mustang’s chagrin, insists on getting involved.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Edward Elric & Roy Mustang
Comments: 48
Kudos: 128





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again! This won't be a super long fic. Short and sweet, angsty, parental, all that good stuff. I hope to post chapters by the week, but since I'm purposefully not pre-writing too much here, we'll see how that goes. Hope you enjoy. :)

Roy stood in the center of the windowless lab with his arms folded, fingers tensely curling into his sleeves, somberly watching the forensic officers do their jobs. He watched as the a man's entire life's work was reduced down to cold statistics and impassive notes.

Everything Shou Tucker researched and studied and accomplished sat in that room, never to be used again.

When an alchemist died, Roy would occasionally consider the coded research material they all had and would mourn for them; for the ciphered information would never again see the light of day like a lost relic-- lost knowledge.

But he felt no such sympathy for the work of the Sewing-Life Alchemist.

The overhead light had burnt out before they arrived, forcing the soldiers to depend solely on the hallway light casting in through the open door, and the few flashlights they brought along for the sake of shifting through any remaining evidence.

The room itself was dark and depressing and stunk of torture. Cages of various sizes ran along the wall, stacked on top of each other. They had been emptied earlier, with the chimera experiments either brought to a military lab or euthanized.

His gaze traveled over a dusty bookshelf against the nearest wall; it held a number of books, some appearing to be ancient while others looked brand new. But more noticeably, besides them sat a large, airtight jar that was filled with an oily liquid and what appeared to be some kind of fetus.

Roy grimaced slightly. He wondered how Tucker was ever able to live with himself-- how he could have ever held hands with his daughter, knowing they were drenched in the blood of his actions. How could he have ever smiled at her or even look in the mirror without being struck with self-disgust?

Roy knew his hands were no less stained, but at least he had the shame to acknowledge it. At least he knew to keep his bloody past from further tainting his future-- or to at least try. The demons that constantly howled in the back of his mind, restrained by nothing more than a chain-link fence, were a constant reminder of that. Being in that room caused the fence to shake and rattle, jarringly loud in his head, adding to his overall discomfort. But as always, he would fight the demons off until they quieted.

Seeing cases such as Tucker served as examples of what Roy could become, or how his life could derail so easily; how fragile it all was. At the very least, it served to create a sense of thankfulness for where he was now, despite all of his rotten luck.

Roy repressed a shudder and averted his attention back to the soldiers who wandered around, placing down numbered markers next to whatever counted as evidence and taking photos. Bright flashes would occasionally fill the room for a brief instant as they slowly recorded bits and pieces of what would one day be nothing but another piece of unfortunate history.

A few rooms ahead, harrowing tape outlines had marked the floorboards over dried blood splatters to further set the foreboding mood. Roy had not gone up there. He had no need to.

In all honesty, Roy was not entirely sure why he came along. They didn’t need a colonel present to gather up the remaining evidence and belongings. He claimed he would oversee the process, and then mumbled something about keeping an eye out for Scar, should he return. Thankfully, no one bothered to announce how unlikely that was.

He mostly just wanted to avoid the Elrics.

While he doubted the two kids had any intentions of leaving their dorm that day, still reeling from sorrow and shock, the possibility of running into them was enough to chase Roy away-- though he’d never admit it.

They had to accept that the path they chose was gritty and uncaring; that terrible things happened, and there was nothing to do about it besides push forward. He had essentially told Fullmetal that already as they stood in the rain only one day ago. Even so, he knew it would take time.

Furthermore, he did not want to risk Edward learning about the team's trip to Tucker’s house, and choose to follow along for some ungodly reason. He doubted the kid would want to step near the place for the rest of his life, but considering the older Elric managed to surprise him on a weekly basis, he would take no chances.

Soldiers had been scurrying around the large house for hours by then; the alarm that Tucker and that thing he turned his daughter into had been killed did not come in until late last night. The process to ensure the surrounding area was secure, do a sweep for the suspected killer, then beginning to search every room for additional evidence all added up to be a lengthy process.

All things considered, Roy and the team arrived only to catch the tail end of it.

Hawkeye appeared from the hall and approached, not sparing the lab much of a glance. “Looks like they’re about done, Sir.”

He hummed in indifferent agreement.

“The evidence collection truck should arrive shortly.”

Roy did not reply right away, keeping his eyes down on his immediate surroundings as the quiet mulling of nearby forensic officers filled the silence. “Let’s go,” he said after a moment, and turned around towards the hall with Hawkeye following behind.

The large doors pushed out heavily and Roy stepped out into the cold late-morning rain, and down the steps. The storm from the day before persisted, causing him to pull his coat a little tighter around his torso as he made his way down back to street level.

A long line of military vehicles were parked across the driveway, vacant and quiet, all being battered with the heavy rainfall. Among then, a much larger truck had pulled up near the front, with a number of forensic personnel mulling about, rearranging items in the back, and pulling out large boxes for storing evidence and research materials. The Amestris insignia plastered on the side of the exterior drew the eye, but Roy willed his attention away to find his own car instead.

As he neared it, he grumbled on about not having an umbrella as Hawkeye went around to the drivers side, surely repressing an eye-roll. Had the situation been less somber, he might had even gotten a comment out of her in response; but as things were, no one was quite in the mood.

Nearby guards saluted as he and Hawkeye moved towards their car, not speaking another word until they closed the doors behind them. Situating himself in the back seat, Roy leaned back, his head lolling to the side to gaze out at the old manor. With the dark rainy sky as it’s backdrop, the pealing paint job and unruly vines creeping up along the sides made him wonder how he hadn’t seen it all sooner.

Hell, he had recommended Tucker to Fullmetal. While hindsight was indeed much clearer, he struggled not to scold himself for not realizing what kind of horrible pitfall he was sending his subordinate into. After everything he said to the kid the day before, he couldn’t just dismiss it all by allowing any amount of pity or sympathy to obscure his judgement now.

He told the kid that these things happened; it was the nature of their profession. Not as dogs of the military, but as alchemists.

It was gut-wrenching to see, but Edward could not allow himself to get held up by such roadblocks. He had to push through them, or he and his brother would never succeed.

* * *

The short walk between the dorms and the main building proved to be a miserable one.

Edward tended to prefer cutting across what East Command called a grass field to get around as quickly as possible, but with how much it had rained the past two days, Alphonse nearly sunk right into the mud, and immediately began to worry about tracking it into the military cafeteria.

Lacking the energy to make a persuasive argument about something so trivial, Ed moved to the sidewalk and they took the long way around the building.

Besides, it wasn't like he had anywhere else to be.

Mustang had thankfully not bothered to call him into the office just yet. He assumed the colonel was busy doing whatever paperwork typically followed when a State Alchemist preformed inhuman experiments on children, getting placed under house arrest, and then promptly murdered. And Edward was perfectly happy with having absolutely nothing to do with it.

He was still struggling to come to terms with the event-- the failure. He and Alphonse had agreed that nothing would slow down their search to restore their bodies, but this marked the first time where something truly challenged their willpower in such a way.

They didn't lose any of their motivation in general, but the mourning and the loss that weighed the brothers down had them tacitly agreeing that moping around the dorm for at least a day felt much more ideal.

They both needed time to process it all-- to figure out the best way to move on. Because no matter what, they would always keep pushing forward.

Edward intended to busy himself in his research until the wound mended, though he knew there was no avoiding the scar that would remain. And he was okay with that; that's what he told himself. It would be a reminder that all of the resources, power, and knowledge in the world meant nothing if they couldn't even save a little girl.

Realistically, he couldn't hope for much more.

At least no one would be able to see the scar. As long as he could continue to put on a brave face, that was all that mattered.

Ed and Al rounded the corner, nearing the closest entrance into the building, but their paces slowed somewhat as a couple of uniformed figures hurried out of the front door, heedless of the rain that battered down.

There was a sense of concern and urgency in their comportments that caused the two to pause and watch as the soldiers spoke amongst themselves, gesturing, just as the front gates into the compound opened. Out from the street came a truck; a tow truck, Edward noticed a second later through the hazy rainfall.

The tow truck slowly pulled up the driveway, carrying another vehicle behind it. Edward was only able to make out remnants of the Amestrian insignia around the large, gaping hole that breached it's side. It looked as if someone had clawed their way inside like the heavy metal material was nothing more than cheap tinfoil.

The sight caused him to pause with a mild jolt as his mind raced through any possibly explanations. He reluctantly settled on it being an elaborate and unlikely crash, though the rest of the truck looked like it had only been dented at best.

The group of soldiers followed along the tow truck, guiding it alongside the building, then disappearing around the far corner.

Edward and Alphonse shared an equally confused glance, then turned back towards the main entrance to get out of the rain.

While curious and admittedly concerning, as far as the Elrics were aware, it had nothing to do with them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the amazing response to chapter one, everyone!! I really appreciate it!
> 
> Getting close to the fun angsty bits that everyone is here for. Hang in there! :'D

Two months had passed since Nina and Shou Tucker had been killed.

Two long months of coping, healing, mending-- whatever Edward would try to call it as he and Alphonse buried themselves in their search for the Philosopher's Stone.

Eventually, the brothers managed to move on. With enough time, maybe they could have even forgotten. They could have moved on from the dread and distrust that developed from the event. However, neither wanted to truly forget about what happened to Nina, lest they allow such a tragedy to occur again; but after two months, days could pass without being struck by distorted memories of an innocent girl dying in a body that was not hers.

Though it was of minimal consolation, Edward believed his priorities had realigned since then. Nothing had ever rivaled the importance of restoring their bodies (Al's body, primarily), but he was able to focus more, knowing that the moment he allowed himself to get distracted, his mind would wander back to the growing list of ghosts and regrets.

They certainly were not lacking anything to focus on. Not only had the brothers discovered the horrifying truth of the Philosopher's Stone, they had a run-in with Scar, returned the Resembool, visited Teacher in Dublith-- god, what a mess that was.

They had caught up with Mustang and his team in Central after his transfer not long ago; besides the conspiracies and secrets that brewed right under the city, Ed and Al greedily took advantage of the opportunity to do nothing besides spend hours scouring through library books like they used to. They were devoted to finding a different way to restore their bodies that didn't include sacrificing the souls of innocent people.

He and Al were on the verge of a breakthrough- he was sure of it- up until reality caught up with them, striking them down from the meager pillar of stability they managed to rebuild in the past few months.

It started as mere rumors circulating that whispered with a foreboding familiarity, which were overall ignored for a while. Edward and Alphonse did not discuss it; they didn't want to acknowledge it. However, they were only able to avoid it for a short while; up until these quiet whispers reached Mustang's office in the form of something far more concrete.

Edward stepped into the office for a routine visit to drop off his latest report, essentially to remind the military that he wasn't completely slacking off, and immediately noticed the distinct tension that floated around the room. Mustang and the team crowded around the colonel's desk, muttering amongst themselves. He knew something was especially wrong when all conversation came screeching to an abrupt halt the moment they noticed his presence.

Alphonse, nervously hovering and distinctly aware of the change in tone, followed as Edward marched up to them with a scowl in place to mask his unease.

“What?” he barked, daring for a decent explanation before his sudden surge of trepidation would cause him to snap.

In unison, the team all turned their gazes onto their commander with varying degrees of subtly. Mustang said nothing for what felt like a very long moment, content with quietly studying Edward's steadily increasing distress.

Then at last, he exhaled and leaned back, resolutely wrapping himself with an air of indifferent confidence.

“Perhaps you've heard the rumors already; about the recent string of animal attacks in East City.”

Edward nodded slowly, feeling a rush of nervousness, dizzying him slightly, as if his subconscious caught on to what this all meant long before he did.

“Well, up until now, the general populace decided that the claims were exaggerated; that a few people had stumbled across a feral dog on the city outskirts. But there's no denying it now.” Mustang picked up a newspaper Ed hadn't noticed before that was in the center of his desk, and turned it around for him to see.

Taking the cue, he and Alphonse wordlessly stepped closer.

Ed's eyes blurred the words, immediately drawn into the enlarged photo that took up the majority of the front page. A beast stared back.

It looked to have the body of a wolf; far too large and muscular for comfort, fur raised, and teeth clearly on display as it looked ready to pounce in the direction of the camera. Edward guessed it was taken at night, with the bright camera flash illuminating it's eyes and contorting its harsh features, through many details were obscured in stark shadows.

There was something abjectly off about it. That thing was no ordinarily wolf; it's face was wider, shoulders broader, and it's eyes-- through they reflected the light, they somehow felt dark and hollow; despairingly pained in a way that struck Edward to the core.

He had seen those eyes before.

“Fullmetal.”

Edward blinked, snapping his gaze away from the paper to look up at the colonel. The cold, distant indifference from before had waned, pushed to the side by a surprising hint of concern. He blinked again, baffled as to why he would be targeted with such an expression, until he looked down to see his hands were shaking, wrinkling the newspaper.

He let it drop to the desk.

“Brother?” Without needing to glance back at Alphonse, he knew his younger brother was thinking the same thing just by his unnerved tone.

“Is this-” Edward paused to swallow the lump in his throat. “This is a chimera, isn't it?” he asked shallowly, trying not to think about the much more advanced chimeras he met in Dublith. They were in a league all their own; if someone was out there causing animalistic chimeras to attack the public, he doubted the same people were behind it.

“Nothing has been announced to the public, but that's what we're thinking,” Mustang replied as his sharp eyes remained on the brothers, calculating and attentive.

“But how? Tucker was the only known alchemist to have any real success with chimeras in that area.” The sentence nearly made Edward feel sick. As if anyone could call the atrocity he committed as a _success;_ especially now that he knew that horrible man's work paled in comparison to what was truly possible with bio-alchemy. “Could this have anything to do with him?”

There was also Father Cornello and his chimera that tried to rip Edward's arm off, but his access to a false Philosopher's Stone made the situation an outlier. Another alchemist having an applicable understanding of bio-alchemy was not unlikely by far, but this came out of nowhere. The military tended to keep a close eye on amateur alchemists with even half the skill required to pull off such a stunt. Where would they have been hiding all this time?

Mustang did not reply right away; which was strange, because he always had fast answers.

“I'm sure East Command will figure it out eventually. Regardless, it's not our concern.”

Edward blinked at him for a moment, then allowed his eyes to drop back to the newspaper, eyes zeroing in on _East City_ written in among the headline.

“But we could help,” Edward argued quickly-- perhaps too quickly. “Chimera's showing up attacking people only two months after Tucker's big public _breakthrough?_ What if someone's trying to copy him?”

“These attacks are well out of my jurisdiction.”

“You know everyone at East Command; you can just pull some strings; get me over there so I can-”

“Don't make me repeat myself, Fullmetal,” the colonel replied wearily.

It was a shame that Edward didn't give two shits about how many times Mustang had to repeat himself. Even so, he willed himself to pause as he balled his fists at his sides, struggling to reason through Mustang's stubbornness.

“If you're so damn indifferent, then why were you all even bothering to talk about it?” he growled, with an indignant gesture towards the newspaper they had been crowding around. Surely this wouldn't have been such a topic in the office unless there was something more to it.

The colonel sighed and glanced past him towards Hawkeye. Ed looked over his shoulder to follow his gaze, but she was impossible to read; if they wordlessly communicated something, it was already gone.

“I received a phone call today from East HQ about this case; they did not share how much information has been gathered so far.” He sighed again, clearly reluctant. “They must have found something that pointed towards a connection between this and an evidence transport truck that was attacked a few months ago.”

Forgotten mental pictures, blurred by time, jumped to the front of Ed's mind with enough force to nearly topple him.

“What evidence truck?” he dared to ask quietly, hesitantly.

“It carried some of Tucker's research material; the bulk of his notes had already been collected the day before, but some went missing. For an aspiring bio-alchemist perhaps it was enough to piece together the rest.” He paused for a beat as Edward stared into space. “East Command was merely asking if I had any information from back then, which I don't.”

An unnatural gash ripping through the side of an armored truck a mere day after Nina Tucker was killed.

“Then they _are_ connected,” Edward stated, though his tone sounded more like an accusation. “You wanted to keep this from me!”

“Don't get hysterical, Fullmetal,” the colonel breathed, casting a glance past him to the others as they pretended not to listen. “I realize how you must feel about this, but you are in no position to get sidetracked by something so irrelevant to your goal.”

Edward grit his teeth. “Oh yeah? You never seem too concerned about when I get _sidetracked_ by all the irrelevant missions you send me off to.”

Mustang quirked his brow, apparently unimpressed. Even so, Ed got the impression that he was actively keeping himself from getting irritated. “I'm not interested in arguing about this. We are not authorized to get involved; end of discussion.”

Edward glared at him for several tense seconds until he sensed Alphonse shift uncomfortably besides him.

“Fine then,” he hissed. “Have it your way.” He stopped himself short from making another jab as he abruptly turned on his heel and marched out of the office. Alphonse hastily moved to follow, muttering something too quietly for Ed to hear over his seething, feeling the colonel's eyes follow him out.

* * *

“This is a bad idea.”

Ed suppressed a sigh as he drew his eyes away from the window. At the rate they were going, it wouldn't be long before he lost track of how many times Alphonse had stated that.

“It'll be _fine_ , Al,” he insisted yet again. “We'll get to East City and figure this whole thing out before the colonel even looks in this direction.” Alphonse didn't reply, seemingly relenting to his plan, but his slacked shoulders and downwards gaze suggested he still hesitated. And yet, he had chosen to get on the train. “You want to get to the bottom of this just as much as I do, right?”

“Yeah... If someone is using Tucker's research to make more chimeras, I want to put a stop to it.” He lifted his helmet to keep Edward's eyes. “But without any backup or anyone even knowing where we are, it could get dangerous.”

“We've done plenty of dangerous things before,” Edward muttered, allowing his focus to trail back towards the window. “This isn't any difference.”

“Except it _is._ ” Alphonse shifted to the side, leaning forward, staring back to Ed with an intent that forced his attention to stay there. “It is different, Brother. Nina was different.”

Edward stilled, feeling an influx of memories and raw emotions rise up at the very mention of that name.

Al was right, of course. It was no secret that being the two responsible for revealing the truth about Tucker, they felt responsible for what might happen as a consequence. If someone else out there was suffering because his research material was stolen-- if whoever took it was repeating the same incident all over again, then they had to stop it. That was likely a standpoint they both tacitly agreed to during the past two months, amidst the coping.

It was nearly noon when the train slowed into the station of East City. Sunlight filtered effortlessly through the high windows, bringing a warmth into the station as the morning chill slowly faded. Edward and Alphonse stepped off and merged into the active foot traffic of hustling businesspeople and travelers, followed by Edward marching up to the nearest newspaper stand to buy a copy. Flipping through the pages, he moved towards the wall to get out of the shifting crowds.

“Is that the same issue Colonel Mustang had yesterday?” Alphonse asked as he looked over Edward's shoulder.

“That's right,” he murmured as he skimmed through the articles. “Couldn't find anything reporting on it in Central.” Alphonse hummed in response as they both focused in on the small print. “Alright, here it is; says the last attack was on the south side of town, around seventieth street.”

“Oh... is the person okay?”

“Yeah, Al. Guy's in the hospital, but he was well enough to be interviewed, apparently. Besides, we wouldn't be sneaking around if someone was killed. The wheels of bureaucracy won't turn until worse damage has been done,” he added with a scoff. Good thing they were there to take care of this problem before another life could be put at risk. And yet, he knew they would get no thanks for it.

“Anyway,” he started again, looking up and around to collect his barrings. “Let's head over to that area. Maybe we can get something out of the locals.”

Hailing a taxi and getting a lift to the south side proved to be a rather silent journey. Alphonse still carried an air of unease about what Edward's intentions were, but there was little left to be said on that topic. Instead, Edward directed his attention to questioning the taxi driver about what he knew regarding the recent attack; it turned out to be surprisingly little. He expected people with such jobs would be rather in-the-know, but the driver claimed it was difficult to gather facts through the hysteria.

They were dropped off at an intersection near the newspaper's vague indicator of where the most recent chimera spotting was and left to their own devices.

The crossroad was active enough; not too far out of town that it would get little traffic, though it wasn't exactly a bustling business center. There were several mom and pop shops lined up along the sidewalk and a small number of people walking around, but it was enough to feel comfortable. Seeing as noon was moments away, he was expecting the activity to increase before they were done.

Edward took a moment to open the newspaper back up and skim through for any details he may had missed. Though moments into his search, his eyes found themselves focusing on the enlarged photo of the large snarling animal. He then decided to try picking out any landmarks in the background but his hopes were not high, considering how dark it was.

Meanwhile, Alphonse stepped away to ask the passing locals directly. Being a hulking suit of armor made it slightly more difficult for people to simply walk by without a second glance, pretending not to notice in fear of being handed a flier.

Leaving the younger Elric to his direct approach, Ed found himself leaning against a light post as his eyes remained on the monochrome photo, certain that even a shred of information could be gathered from it. However, the sheer brightness of the camera flash drowned much out; but that didn't seem to be the sole lighting source.

He squinted at the paper, unsure how well he could trust the ink, but the backdrop behind the chimera didn't look to be as dark as it could have been, as if the sun had already begun to climb. It was faint and not much to go off of, nor did it give him much to work with, but he supposed it was something.

Though it depended entirely on the specific time of early morning, he was willing to guess that the chimera came from the east.

Even so, that wasn't going to help in the slightest until he found more information to pair with it.

“Brother!”

Edward snapped out of his thoughts and looked up as Alphonse was jogging over from across the street; he went further than Ed had realized. “Yeah?”

“I asked around. It took a few people to get anything, but a woman said that she heard the _animal_ attack occurred at just the next block over.” Right, the people still had no idea that it was actually a chimera.

“You sure?” he asked easily, already folding the newspaper up again and tucking it under his arm.

“The next person I spoke to said roughly the same thing.”

With a quick nod, Ed turned on his heel and the brothers began the short walk to the next intersection. While they did not necessarily frequent that side of town before the transfer, it was familiar enough that they were able to know their way around without much direction.

“Seems like not a lot of people know much about this,” Alphonse commented after a few beats. Looking around, those walking around the area didn't appear to be worried about the violent animal that was prowling the same street just a few days prior.

Not like they should have been, especially in broad daylight and when the chances of the chimera appearing at the same exact street corner again were so unlikely. Even so, Edward thought back to what the taxi driver said about there being hysteria, wondering what exactly the man had heard.

Knowing the general populace, it was likely that people were either too disconnected from the events to give more than a passing thought, or they were fretting so badly that the truth became horribly exaggerated.

Either way, it would make things harder for the Elrics.

Once they reached the crossroad where the chimera attack allegedly happened, they stopped on the street corner and glanced around in silence for a moment; what for, neither were sure.

“Maybe one of the businesses around here saw something,” Al suggested as they mulled around.

Edward hummed dubiously. “Doubt any of them were open by then. Seems like it happened pretty late at night-- or early morning,” he added as an afterthought with another glance at the newspaper photo.

“Oh! What about that place?” Edward looked up and followed Al's gaze to the coffee shop on the opposite corner. Being one of the few types of businesses known for opening doors well before anyone had any right to be conscious, it was their best bet.

“Huh. Worth a shot.”

The coffee shop was small and quaint with a few small tables placed around it's patio area, though only had a handful of patrons at the moment. A sign by the door stated they opened at five in the morning, giving Edward some hope that someone might have seen something.

Immediately upon entering, a woman had finished placing an order and stepped away from the counter, allowing the brothers to waste no time in approaching the employee.

“What can I get for you?” a young man asked, putting up a valiant attempt to pretend like he wasn't tired. It took him a whole four seconds for his eyes to travel up to Alphonse and blink in mild surprise at the suit of armor.

“How about information?” Edward asked easily.

The poor employee looked like he had been mindlessly reading the same script for the past few hours and needed to take a moment to recover from being so suddenly jolted off track.

“Uhh...”

“Heard anything about that animal attack from a few days ago? Heard it happened right out your window.”

“Oh... “ He blinked and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, I saw happen.”

“Can you tell us what happened?” Alphonse asked eagerly. “Anything that might help us track it down?”

“What, you're going after that thing?” the older teenager asked with a nervous laugh, but continued nonetheless. “Not much to say, honestly. I got here around four-thirty to help set up before opening; was putting the tables outside, and I heard some guy screaming from across the street and a massive wolf or something standing over him. I didn't catch the whole thing, but I think he would have gotten away unnoticed if he didn't stop to take a picture of it. My manager called the police and an ambulance took the guy away.”

“How long did this wolf stick around for?” Edward asked as he digested the information, trying to paint a mental picture of the scene for himself.

“Not long. I'm not sure if it got spooked by something or just wasn't interested in killing him, but it just ran off seconds after I noticed what was happening.”

“Well, that's good,” Alphonse added quietly for the victim's sake. With a chimera that large, it would have been easy for it to kill any regular citizen. But for as wild these attacks seemed to be, it begged the question of _why_ there were no deaths so far. “Did you see which way it went after that?”

The coffee shop employee grimaced slightly. “I think it went down this street; directly east. But it could have gone anywhere after that.”

Edward _hmm_ ed and pushed himself away from the counter. “No problem. Thanks for the info,” he said as he was already turning to leave the shop.

Alphonse said something more to the employee, but Ed was well on his out of earshot and also far too caught up in his own thoughts to listen. Al hurried to catch up with him just as he stepped out and approached the street.

“Well, know we know what happened here,” his brother said with something like a shrug. “What now?”

“Now,” Ed began as he shoved his arms into his pockets, “I'm thinking we go to the police.”

Alphonse paused with a start, apparently taking a moment to process what Ed had said. “...really?”

“Really, Al, is that so shocking?” He looked up over his shoulder with a cocky grin. “Of course an upstanding citizen like me would want to go to the police in these trying times.”

Alphonse sighed deeply. “What are you planning now?”

Edward clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “You wound me, Al.”

“Uh huh.”

Regardless of his brother's keen perception of his dubious intentions, Ed picked a direction and started walking. “The nearest police station isn't far from here right? Wasn't there one on sixty-fifth or...”

“Sixty-four, I think.”

“Right, right.”

They walked the rest of the way in relative silence. Alphonse tried asking what exactly he was planning, but his oversimplified answers were not especially helpful.

Edward sauntered into the front entrance of the police station with all the confidence in the world as Al followed closely behind. They approached the receptionist desk, pulling a young woman's attention away from whatever she was writing. Before she could start her greeting, he leaned on the counter and fluidly slid his silver pocket watch into plain view.

“Hi. Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist; I'm here for the case files on the recent _animal attacks_ ,” he said, putting heavy emphasis on the last two words, and giving her a significant look to convey that he knew they were no mere animals. Though he couldn't be sure, her wearing the military police uniform was enough of an indicator for him to figure that she at least knew a little bit about the truth of the situation.

The receptionist paused, eyes rising up to meet his, then dropped to the pocket watch, then slowly trailed back up to him as she put the several disjointed pieces together. “Of course. Who was it that granted you access to the case file?” she asked easily as she began sorting through folders and pulled out a record sheet.

“Colonel Mustang,” he answered smoothly. “We recently transferred to Central, but I was sent down here to assist, since I have prior experience in the subject. He was in contact with someone down here, but we think the orders got lost in the move,” he added, tapping a finger not-so-inconspicuously against the pocket watch.

Alphonse shifted his weight.

The receptionist paused and set the records down. She looked willing to argue his flimsy case, but the glimmer of the silver pocket watch spoke volumes.

At last, she relented. “Alright, Mr. Elric, I'll find the case files for you.”

“Thanks,” he grinned just as she turned and disappeared into another room behind the counter. He was betting on the case not having a very high classification level for who could access it, and was relieved to be right.

As she was gone, he glanced over his shoulder to Alphonse and the concerned look he was somehow returning. Without even needing to hear the words, Edward knew what he was thinking. “Stop worrying, Al,” he affirmed under his breath. However, the woman returned with a folder in hand before his brother could respond.

She returned to her pose and set it on the desk. “Here you go. Although if you want to take a copy with you, I'll have to consult with--”

“No need,” Edward cut in casually as he slipped the folder and his watch off of the counter. “We only need a glance.” And with that, he and Al migrated over to a plush chair that was pushed up against the wall, and way less comfortable than it looked.

She gave the brothers a curious look, but went back to whatever she was doing before.

“Alright, let's see what we got,” Edward exhaled as he began skimming through the files with Alphonse looking over his shoulder.

It was mostly reports from eye-witnesses, none telling him anything useful that he didn't already know. However, a few papers in, he found reports written by the soldiers sent to sweep the general area.

“Look at this,” he said under his breath, drawing Al's attention to the specific report. “Says they found a tuft of fur in the train tracks south-east of here. Doesn't match any of the native wildlife around here, apparently.”

“Sounds plausible.” Edward nodded slowly. “If the guy at the coffee shop was right about it heading directly east, then that would imply the chimera turned south at the train tracks.”

“That's a good place to start.”

Edward hummed in agreement as he set the paper aside to keep skimming. He did read a few pages down that the search teams also scoured through the industrial warehouses that the train track ran through, a bit further south of where the fur was found, but found no indication that the chimera may had been hiding there.

That said, he was willing to bet that they could find something noteworthy of they went a little further down. The warehouses would have been too active during the day to hide properly anyway. Perhaps there was something more past them, further out of town.

Ed had a good feeling about it.

“Alright.” He loosened his grip on the collection of papers, letting the folder fall closed. The woman at the counter gave them another curious look, but he ignored it. Instead, he looked up to Al, as if searching for resolution in his soulfire eyes, and hoping to find the same thing in his reflection. “Let's get going.”

* * *

**  
**

_**Big thanks to RainFlame for helping me draw a dog. :')** _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for some reason, I chose to start uploading a fic at the same time I started applying for jobs. I'm hoping that doesn't cause my writing to slow down until this one is finished, but I figured I'd give the warning.   
> Anyway, thanks so much for the wonderful reception!   
> Onward!

Even with their near-constant traveling, Edward had begun to get accustomed to the slightly more temperate weather of Central City. Once the sun climbed to it's full height, he began to remember why East City wasn't one of his favorite places. It was just hot enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough so to justify complaining for more than a minute.

The brothers had spared some time to grab lunch before continuing their hunt. By the time they were back on the road, some clouds had appeared to help intermittently block the sunshine, helping somewhat as they wandered through the industrial warehouse district. They glanced around, but were mostly only given reasons to agree with the police's report that stated and chimeras had not been there.

The spacing between buildings thinned as they continued south, making space for the railroad that cut through the streets. It was one of many that eventually lead into East City Station, but was smaller and primarily used for transporting goods and machinery above passengers.

Eventually, they left the city entirely, walking over the splotchy grass that paralleled the tracks and stepping over the occasional shrub. Their destination remained as a vague dark shape in the distance, backdropped by the horizon of green hills.

"So uh... what exactly is the plan here?" Alphonse asked after the prior conversation lulled to a natural stop.

"Easy; we're going to find this alchemist and punch him in the face."

"Brother," he sighed.

"Alright, alright." Edward paused, far more entertained with himself than Al was. "Well, our top priority should be finding the research material that was stolen."

"But that's only assuming that this path leads us to wherever these experiments are taking place."

Edward hummed with a slow nod. "Guess that'd be unlikely, way out here. Unless he somehow had the resources to have a whole lab built outside of town, but..." he trailed off in thought.

"I think it's more likely that the lab is in the city, but the chimeras are kept somewhere out here. It would be hard to hide them anywhere else."

"Yeah. If we can find the chimeras, we can find the alchemist and therefore the stolen notes."

"Hypothetically."

"No one likes a pessimist, Al," Ed said airily. "It'll work out; it has to. The longer the military allows this to go on, the higher risk of even more people getting _inspired."_ Since that was really all it could have been, right? Some armature alchemist with a knack for bio-alchemy caught wind of what Tucker had done and decided he had only one chance to get a hand on the psychotic man's research material. From there, a knowledgeable armature could decode them with enough persistence.

Tucker's first _great accomplishment_ that got him into the State Alchemist program earned quite a bit of news coverage back then; when he transmuted his own wife into a chimera. Of course, no one knew the truth of the situation, just like how the truth of Nina's fate was never exposed. This new alchemist likely had no idea that the research he was stealing would lead into something so inhumane.

Even so, Edward wasn't certain if he had taken full advantage of it yet. He hoped the idea of taking an innocent person and turning them into a tortured animal hybrid was more disturbing than the appeal of whatever their ultimate goal was.

The train depot came into view after several minutes of talking through the empty field that surrounded East City. Dozens of large, boxy train compartments sat unequipped in rows beyond the small depot's main building, slightly obscuring the small collection of old discarded houses that had likely once belonged to employees, and maybe a single general store.

Upon nearing the abandoned area, it's age became evident. The main building was once a dark green, but it's paint had peeled and withered. It had fallen into ruin since the construction of East City's station decades ago, making this depot obsolete and untouched.

The series of train compartments that were collecting dust along the rail were placed almost haphazardly, like there was an attempt for organization that didn't quite come to fruition. Instead, they towered overhead, creating something of a maze with their placement, along with the occasional wooden and metal storage crates that were also littered about.

If Edward cared more, he might have wondered why so much supplies was left behind, but he supposed they suffered from age and left it at that.

Once they reached the depot building, the brothers spared a moment to peek through the cracked windows, finding the inside mostly cleaned out, besides a forgotten filing cabinet or two. Edward then brushed a finger over the door handle and studied the thick coating of dust he had collected. "Not here," he huffed, half surprised and half disappointed. If the alchemist had been staying in the area, breaking into the nearest building for shelter seemed like it would have been an obvious choice.

Alphonse hummed contemplatively as he looked out to the other side of the track where the collection of abandoned train compartments sat. "Any one of those could make for a decent cage."

Edward followed his gaze and studied the long metal boxes for a moment. The majority of them looked to be used for storage and transport; nearly no windows to speak of, and heavy, sturdy walls on all sides.

"Let's check it out."

It was one thing to look out at the field of train cars from a distance. It was another entirely to squeeze between them and take in the full scope of the labyrinth their placement created. There was enough space for the brothers to walk side by side in moderate comfort for the most part, and there was enough space to allow them glances of the expanding field at nearly any given time. However, choosing directions proved to be a gamble with whether or not they would find themselves at a dead end or not.

Transmuting holes into the large crates would be an easy solution, but Alphonse pointed out that it would do them no good to accidentally walk right into the cage of a dangerous chimera, which they still were only guessing was there somewhere.

They moved around the depot in silence, taking in the dystopian nature of their surroundings. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that the vast majority of the compartments had gaping holes or daunting fractures. Others were rusted beyond repair with wispy blades of grass growing out of crevices. At least half of the contents were not full train compartments, but just corroded storage boxes made primarily out of rotting wood that were once being transported for some purpose. A few were of thinner metals as well, but they were all still too large and heavy to move with any sort of ease.

Overall, the collection of crates and boxes did not fill much ground, and making way from one end to the other would only take moments if they hurried. Though with the desire to be as thorough as possible, they chose the long way through, zig-zagging their way to the other end, Alphonse ducking to look through openings and Ed pressing his ear against every other compartment they passes.

"Hope we're not wasting our time," Edward muttered as Alphonse braced himself between two crates to make room for them to press through.

"Yeah," the younger agreed as he dislodged himself a moment later, causing an echo from the crate's jostled movement to bounce around their surroundings. "Although I couldn't think of a better place to hide chimeras than this."

Edward opened his mouth to give off some noncommittal response, but a light, distant skittering cut him off. He froze in his tracks, which Alphonse was quick to follow suit.

They listened.

Heartbeats passed is complete silence.

Then, the skittered returned, drawing their eyes towards the sky and the tops of the crates just as a bird flew off from the area.

Edward dropped his shoulders as he figured the sound was from the bird's claws on the metal. But even so, he gestured to where it flew from and they continued in that direction.

On the way, they saw a car that stuck out among the rest; one side of it had been nearly ripped to shreds. In that instant, foggy images of the evidence truck with the Amestrian insignia flashed across his mind; impressive tears across the exterior, carved through as if costing no effort at all. Only then did Edward began to consider what exactly they were going up against.

A tinge of doubt sparked, destabilizing his otherwise unmovable stubbornness.

How had he managed to come all this way without once considering that maybe it was a _bad idea?_

But then he thought of Nina. He thought of that _thing_ that they all allowed her to be turned into. Those empty, tearful eyes that were shadowed with so much agony that even she had not been able to fully understand.

He wondered how much Nina knew in that state; if she realized what she had become, or that her own father was to blame for it. He wondered if her desire to _play with Big Brother Edward_ was nothing more than a mere coping mechanism used to keep a hold on to whatever sanity she retained.

In spite of what it would suggest, part of him hoped that was not the case. While Ed would have wanted nothing more than to save her or at least reverse it, he hoped she died in blissful ignorance.

Alphonse shifted his stance, drawing Edward's gaze towards the movement, and away from the damaged crate. He was watching Ed expectantly as if he had said something.

"Ah... I got distracted," he said dismissively with a forced half-smile. He then cleared his throat, rolled his shoulders, and continued walking as Alphonse followed closely behind, just as silently uncomfortable by the sight, and the reminder it served as.

They ended up on the far end of the maze where the train cars and storage crates were kept not as closely to each other, clearly exposing the horizon once again. With a little more elbow room, the brothers stepped apart to examine different sides of the small clearing.

"I don't think there's much more to look at," Alphonse said quietly as he lightly tapped his gloves knuckles again the hard metal exterior of an old rounded tank car. The dull, hollow chime rang gently through the area.

Edward didn't respond right away as he began to circle around a rusty box car. After a moment of thought, he was seconds away from agreeing just as he turned around it's corner, and froze when he felt a slight, warm breeze against his face.

He turned to look at the compartment; it's narrow end was wide open and impossibly dark. Sharp, wild eyes stared back through the darkness, jarring him with enough familiarity to send him stumbling back just as a warning growl followed, ringing in his ears with it's muted ferocity.

Edward felt his heart jump up and lodge itself in his throat somewhere as he nearly fell onto his back in his mindless haste to get away, his breath suddenly escaping him.

"Brother!" Alphonse's voice felt distant for a moment as Ed struggled to collect himself. It took a precious moment, but he managed to blink the abrupt dizziness out of his eyes and focus back on the present.

Thick steel beams ran down the length of the opening, separating him from the beast, and allowing him to look on without the jolt of shock and damnable fear that had thrown him so abruptly off balance.

It was just like the newspaper image.

Wolfish and strong, imposing in every imaginable way. Even while being on all fours and with it's neck craned slightly downwards, teeth bared, it's head was nearly at Ed's level. The thing was _massive_ ; much more so than the photo let on. Being inside the train car gave it a few extra inches, but that observation was a despairingly small consolation.

And it's eyes-

The chimera watched the brothers defensively, it's eyes shining with an unbridled savagery. There was rage and anger, learnt through pain. And yet somehow, there was a sense of knowing within the chaos- like it was aware. Edward caught himself locking eyes with the beast, as if that alone could somehow bring out any semblance of humanity that might have been inside there. He searched for differences and similarities from the way Nina looked at him way back then, terrified of what he would find.

Though after some prolonged seconds, he decided he wasn't sure what to make of it. There was that same agony, fueled by the torture that living in an unnatural body must have caused. There was a sense of intelligence that looked back at him with more than that of a hungry animal. But there was that too; a wild thirst to tear through something with it's dauntingly sharp teeth. Perhaps his nightmares have distorted the memories, but for a moment, it occurred to Edward that this monster lacked the same horrifying despair that seeped from her broken voice and undulated off of her very being.

"It's bigger than I expected," Alphonse said hesitantly as he joined Edward around the corner, who nodded numbly in response. "I wonder how easily it could free itself," he added in reference to the deep claw marks they saw earlier.

Ed dropped his gaze down to the beast's large paws. It's claws were long and terrifyingly curled like a bear, but something about them did not quite match up with the marks they had seen before, both earlier that day and two months ago.

"Stay on guard, Al; there must be another one around here."

As if on cue, the chimera shifted its posture and rose it's head upwards as if to howl, but the noise that followed was less sharp and more guttural, deep, and yet loudly echoed around them. The sudden movement prompted the brothers to stiffen despite the securely bolted steel beams that separated them from the animal.

"What was-" Before Edward could fully ponder it, a similar sound came from nearby. And it was coming closer.

Ed and Al braced themselves as heavy footfalls against the dirt neared, pounding with an imposing force. Then jarringly abruptly, it stopped for just a second, and quickly followed by a loud metallic clang from the badly dented train compartment that sat next to the one they were examining. Standing on top of it and peering down like a vulture was another bestial chimera, identical to the first one besides a noticeably lighter coat. It's hooked claws curled around the edge and the fur on it's back enhanced it's already intimidating silhouette as the overhead sun obscured it's details.

The two alchemists backed away from it in preparation for it to leap down on them. Just as the chimera tensed, a man came barreling around the metal container, with a splayed hand extended towards it, as if he was signaling a mere dog to _stay._

Contrary to what Edward had expected, the beast did not move from it's perch, but kept it's hollow eyes pinned on the brothers as several tense, motionless seconds passed.

Once it was apparently evident than the chimera was not going to strike, the man lowered his arm, albeit with a hint of hesitation, then turned to address the brothers. Even so, Ed and Al did not allow themselves to relax their postures just yet, stilled by uncertainty.

The man who was evidently the bio-alchemist they were after was younger than Ed had expected, appearing to be around his mid-twenties. He looked like he could ordinarily fit into any respectable crowd with ease, but the multitude of bandages that were wrapped around his arms drew attention. If anything, they distracted slightly from the dozens of scratches that coated what little suntanned skin was exposed, varying greatly in intensity, though none looked particularly fresh.

Overall, he was... disarming.

Edward was expecting more. He was expecting someone that inspired as much disgust as Tucker did in those final moments; although he knew such an expectation was unlikely to be met, considering how normal and decent Tucker appeared when they were first introduced as well. Regardless of how he looked, Ed willed himself to remember that the man he was staring down was the one who caused innocent people to get hurt, and deemed it necessarily to steal the research of a scumbag like Tucker.

"You're the alchemist that made these chimeras?" he asked needlessly, tone clipped.

The man studied the pair in silence, eyes stuck on Alphonse for a moment longer as his expression turned guarded. "Who's asking?"

"The Fullmetal Alchemist, that's who," he snapped with a thumb pointed towards his own chest, to pull the alchemist's attention back towards him. He then cast a quick glance to the two transmuted beasts; more specifically, their claws. "You're turn."

"I have no reason to tell you who I am." Despite his words, the man's posture and tone did not incline a particularly strong sense of danger. He seemed on-edge, as if he knew he had been caught with his hands in the cookie jar, giving off the impression that he had the impulse to flee but the safety net of the giant chimera kept him in place.

"Equivalent exchange."

The man almost laughed, though his reserved comportment kept the urge at bay. "Fine then, State Alchemist; surely there's something else you'd rather know besides my name, since you've come all this way. Unless of course, you're just here become your boss told you to find me?"

Edward almost broke into a rant about how the military was sitting on their asses while he was taking the initiative to do their job, but decided to keep his cards close while he could.

"Tucker's research," he growled instead, getting straight to the point. "What did you do with it?"

"It's not here."

"Did you decode it?"

There was a long pause before the man replied. "Of course." While the answer did not seem disingenuous, Edward got the impression that he was being terse on purpose.

"Then did you make the same mistake?" he asked lowly, impulsively taking a step closer despite the warning growls from the chimeras. If anything, the sounds they made only caused him to more clearly remember Nina's fate, and the deep dread he felt upon recognizing a similar look in the eyes of these other chimeras. If he was already too late... "Did you turn a human into one of these _things?_ "

The bio-alchemist stared almost blankly for a long second; long enough for Edward to nearly snap at him to answer. Then, his shoulders fell and he exhaled slowly. "That confirms it, then," he said under his breath. "I only had a portion of Shou Tucker's research. There were signs that he was considering transmuting a human; he focused primarily on giving a chimera enough intelligence to speak, but with our current knowledge of alchemy's capabilities, that's impossible without the original materials having the ability to learn something as complex as language as well- or having the vocal cords to pull it off, for that matter. A human would be the only plausible way."

Edward crossed his arms as he was quickly reminded how easy it was to get an alchemist to blather on about their work. Though it wasn't anywhere near his field, he knew enough about bio-alchemy to make some decent educated guesses for how these things works. Regardless, he did not interrupt just yet.

"Besides-" There was a heavy emphasis that suggested he realized that he was beginning to ramble. "I'm not interested in speech; it's nothing more than a cheap parlor trick." Edward thought about the chimeras he met in Dublith, and found himself somehow agreeing. "I'm more focused on maximizing obedience and intelligence, up until the point where it begins to question it's orders, of course."

"So you're just making weapons, is that it? And these attacks; just tests to see how deadly they can be?"

The alchemist scoffed with a nervousness that was disguised by offense and disinterest. "I gain nothing from publicizing my work just yet. If you think I purposefully sent them off to attack random people, then you'd be mistaken. I've been working on the concoction for a while now; some of my experiments proved to be more adept to following commands than others."

"You have more?!"

He seemed reluctant to answer. "Not currently, no," the alchemist said slowly. "There were more, but the equations and ratios weren't right; they didn't last long. Rest assured, I have no interest in letting them run off again."

"And how exactly would you stop them?" he asked almost sarcastically. He was expecting more malice, and wasn't sure how to react to this guy who seemed to have none at all. But it was too soon to tell. He couldn't lower his guard with those beasts constantly growling and looking at the brothers like they were rats to be slaughtered.

"With this." The bio-alchemist held up what looked to be a silver dog whistle, tied to a string and hung around his neck. "My chimera's senses are considerably more powerful than any regular animal, so I've heightened the frequency of this whistle to the point where only they can hear it. I daresay this was the only thing that saved that photographer's life the other day."

Edward glanced back at Al, who returned the mildly perplexed look.

"Even if that's true," Alphonse began, "why are you making these chimeras in the first place?"

This was the first time the alchemist had heard Alphonse speak. Predictably, his surprisingly young voice caught the man of guard, though he recovered and replied fairly quickly. "Besides that I could? What other reason do I need?"

Edward froze. _You're no different than I am! You thought you could do it, so you did!_ Tucker's manic voice echoed through his skull and his chest tightened.

He felt Al's hesitant gaze fall on him. He closed his eyes, forced out a deep exhale, and looked back up. "You're not telling us everything." despite his efforts, there was a new hint of strain behind his voice; he hoped no one else noticed.

"Haven't you two asked enough questions?"

Edward wasn't too sure what to do. The man didn't seem too interested in transmuting humans as they feared, nor was he having people attacked on purpose. But even so, choosing to create such dangerous animals rose some red flags as to what his true intentions really were. There was no law against alchemists transmuting animals within reason, especially since that particular branch of the art was far more complicated in practice than what most people were capable of. But even so, they came there to find the stolen notes, and couldn't leave without them.

"Fine, enough questions. Give us Tucker's research and we'll be on our way."

For the first time in the conversation, the bio-alchemist seemed truly wary of them. "No."

Edward blinked. "What?" The alchemist had been compliant enough so far; silly of him to expect it would last.

"And here I thought no one would miss the research notes of a dead man," he sighed roughly. "I'm not done, simple as that."

"What's the point? Tucker's work wasn't even that impressive," Edward huffed, once again considering the gang of chimeras from Dublith; though as far as the public was aware, Tucker _was_ the most successful bio-alchemist in the field, and he quickly regretting saying otherwise.

The alchemist seemed to notice as well, but he didn't comment on it. "Any ammeter could throw the feet of a crow onto a cat, or what have you; but Tucker excelled at seamlessly merging two species into something new entirely. I got close with these, but I am yet to try with more diverse animals. Perhaps now that I know he was writing equations with a human in mind, I'll be able to..." he trialed off, getting distracted in his own thoughts for a beat.

As the nameless alchemist murmured to himself, Alphonse shifted himself a little closer to Edward, drawing his attention towards his brother as he whispered.

"He doesn't seem to have any bad intentions. Maybe we should just leave him be for now?"

Ed internally grimaced, having been toiling over the same question. But no matter what the man's intentions were, it did not change the fact that innocent people had been hurt, and there was no guarantee that it wouldn't happen again. Besides that concern, many other things did not quite add up.

"I dunno, Al," he whispered back. "We can't know for sure that he doesn't have some ulterior motive." Who would really go through the trouble of creating multiple, large, dangerous chimeras for no reason besides sheer curiosity?

He specified the goal was to make them intelligent an obedient; to Edward, that sounded like the sort of weapon any military would love to buy from a upstarting bio-alchemist with no current ties to any existing organization.

"And even if he doesn't plan on trying it on humans so far," Edward continued, "anything could happen to these notes in time. I doubt he plans on just returning them when he's done."

Alphonse hummed as his helmet tilt upwards to look towards the chimeras. "I guess you're right."

At some point while they quietly conversed, the alchemist had risen from his own musing and settled for just watching them warily out of earshot.

"We don't care what your motives are," Edward announced fearlessly, the sudden increase in volume caused the chimeras to stiffen and for their growling to lower. "We're not leaving until you kindly tell us where the research material is."

The bio-alchemist's eyes narrowed and he was quiet for several beats. "And there's no way to bargain with you, is there?" he asked flatly, already aware of the answer.

"Not gonna happen."

"Very well."

Without another word, the alchemist snapped his fingers and pointed. In response to the seemingly small gesture, the chimera that sat perched on the train container leaped down with a surprising amount of agility, and immediately bounded forward with the grace of a cat.

Edward tensed, automatically took steps backwards as it neared, and rose his hands to clap. But as he prepared himself, Alphonse rushed forward and managed to grab into its long snout and one if it's arms, pulling it to the ground as it struggled violently, managing to snap its jaws down on his glove.

Unaffected, Alphonse looked over his shoulder towards Edward. "Go after the alchemist! I'll hold the chimera here."

Ed snapped his attention back to the alchemist, or rather where he was standing a moment ago. He caught the slightest hint of movement vanish behind one of the many discarded train compartments, and hurried to give chase as he heard Al call after him to be careful.


	4. Chapter 4

A strange feeling came over Edward right as he ran after the fleeing alchemist. It was something like a moment of self reflection followed by a hasty realization that he did not have the time nor the patience to deal with.

He was only scarcely aware of it, far too focused on his current task to give it more than a second-thought; hardly even a first thought, for that matter. He felt a _shift_ , but couldn't begin to wonder what exactly it was until much later.

There was a cold tinge of trepidation that crawled pensively up his spine, much like when he would be forced to accept that whatever he was doing was actually a very bad idea.

But that wasn't quite it this time.

Edward did things that would classify as _bad ideas_ on a near-daily basis. This was different- less intrusive, easier to forget as he rounded the corner of a broken down train compartment.

The sounds of enraged growls and gravel being violently kicked up as Alphonse fought to restrain the chimera distanced out of earshot as Edward gave chase to the alchemist. They were near the edge of the depot's collection of abandoned storage containers, but in an attempt to lose his pursuer, the alchemist circled around the nearest stack of crates to flee right back into the labyrinth.

Unluckily for him, a maze made entirely out of metal was more like a playground for Ed than an obstacle.

Edward rounded the corner to find the bio-alchemist running besides the length of another long train compartment, stumbling, frantic, not very coordinated at all. Just as he was about to disappear again, Ed clapped his hands and brushed his fingers against the metal as he kept up. Sparks ran up to the far end, far quicker than either of them could run. The furthest corner stretched and extended out all the way to the paralleled crate, blocking off the path in an instant.

The alchemist collided into it, barely having the time to turn his shoulder to protect himself from getting a face-full of metal. Having been forced to pause, he spun around to face Edward, who had slowed his pace, but continued to approach.

"What the hell, kid?!" he exclaimed incredulously, as if their conversation caused him to forget who exactly he was dealing with.

"Just tell me where the notes are," Ed said again with something akin to a forced amiability in his tone.

For a passing moment, the man looked torn; debating just how much the stolen research material was worth to him, and if they were worth getting beat up by a child. Ed watched the gears turn as the alchemist slowly grabbed at the whistle that hung around his neck, perhaps due to nothing besides pure instinct.

Edward stiffened. The man's eyes darted to the side, and he broke into a sprint, slipping into a thin opening between two large crates that Ed had not noticed before.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath as he picked up the chase. Edward had an easier time sliding between the two heavy containers than the fully grown adult and managed to cut the distance between them somewhat.

Even so, he lacked the time to simply chase the guy down until he got worn out, now that his attention had been brought back onto that whistle.

Edward threw his hands to the dirt, eyes glued on the man's back as he scrambled to reclaim his balance. Before he could get far, alchemicly charged hands sprouted from the ground and hooked around his legs, and dropping him onto his face with a breathless _oof._ Ed then did the same to the alchemist's arms, keeping him firmly pinned to the ground. He tried to struggle out of the restraints, but the alchemized dirt had hardened to the point where a few weakened tugs wouldn't be enough to crack it.

Edward casually walked over to the downed alchemist, taking the time to collect his breath, and opened his mouth- but all thoughts of what he might have said vanished the moment he saw the whistle still held tightly in the man's hand.

The lack of any kind of whistling foolishly kept him from getting worried for a short, misguided moment. Any comfort he may have felt dissipated with a cold wave as the realization that he wouldn't be able to hear it struck him in the chest.

"Hey," he breathed as the alchemist looked over his shoulder towards Ed with a weary glare. "Did you...?"

His question was answered when a loud, metallic clang rang out over the train depot, quickly followed by another deep, chilling howl that bounced effortlessly off of the surroundings, coming from every direction. Edward spun on his heel, eyes scanning the area as his shoulders tensed and arms rose loosely by his sides.

The sun had begun to drop since he and Alphonse arrived. The shadows cast by the many storage crates and train compartments lengthened, darkening the area and cooling the air. The particular pocket within the maze of boxes had many openings within its makeshift walls, not to mention the ease the chimera showed with leaping on top of them.

Edward kept himself steady, listening beyond the disgruntled squirming of the trapped alchemist behind him. Movement echoed in circles around him, impossible to pinpoint, like the chimera was purposefully making it as difficult as possible.

For a moment, he dared to wonder which chimera it was, but shook that thought away quickly, certain the darker furred beast couldn't just claw it's way out of the cage. However, he nearly choked on a sudden rush of dread as he had to wonder what happened to Alphonse to allow the lighter one to get so close. But just as he did, he was able to make out Al's voice calling out somewhere, muffled by movement and the clanking of armor, assumedly struggling to catch up with the chimera-

A quick blur of movement and the shifting of shadows drew Edward's attention as he swiveled around just when the chimera jumped down from seemingly nowhere, crashing it's imposing weight down on the alchemized arms that restrained it's creator.

Instinct overwhelmed Edward in that short moment, forcing him to back-peddle away from the animal before it could reach out and snap at him. Silence drifted over them as the alchemist pulled himself to his feet and the chimera kept it's eyes pinned on Ed, teeth bared, keeping him frozen to the spot.

Edward found himself struggling to push past the natural desire to get away from an angry beast that was twice his size and radiated with a overpowering sense of aberrance.

Even so, he curled his hands into tight fists, urging himself to break out of the trance and act as quickly and thoughtlessly as he always did; but with every glance up into the empty eyes of the chimera, his limbs chilled again.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to push himself forward. Alphonse burst into the area, stopping at an abrupt halt on the opposite end of the area, unknowingly alleviating the tension that settled over Edward's chest as they surrounded the alchemist and his chimera.

"You okay, Brother?" Al asked hastily from across the way. "It suddenly ran off; I assume because of that dog whistle."

Edward nodded stiffly despite the distance between them, neither wanting to get any closer at risk of provoking the hostile chimera. "I'm fine," he replied quietly, then continued louder as his eyes fell on the bio-alchemist. "Looks like we're back at square one."

"I wouldn't be so sure," the man breathed out, obviously worn out from their quick chase. There was something different about him now- the way he spoke, the way he looked at them; if Edward had to pin it down, he would say the alchemist seemed more confident, but dourly so.

Leaving the two younger alchemists too little time to react, the man blew on the whistle again. Edward could only barely make out the hushed sound of air simply being expelled, but that mere act elicited a much more extreme reaction from the chimera.

It visibly bristled, it's light grey fur rose on it's back, and it's curled clawed seemed to dig into the dirt in preparation. After a beat of tense silence, the alchemist said something to it. He spoke too quietly for Ed to hear, but it worried him nonetheless.

Then, it lunged forward.

It's eyes- so hollow, yet filled with countless emotions that would have been impossible for a mere dog. They neared, trapping Edward in something of a trance, as if some part of it's chaotic mind wanted to communicate, but doing so was made impossible by what it was made to be; intelligent, but not intelligent enough; blocked by a thin veil that stretched on for miles.

In that moment, Edward thought back to what he saw in the eyes of the darker one, and knew that there was a seemingly insignificant, and yet endless gap between the two chimeras.

"Brother!"

Edward blinked, tossing aside his pointless thoughts, and readied himself.

It rushed forward, mouth gaping open, lips drawn back and teeth bared. His mind rushed back to the lion chimera he encountered in Liore, and he rose his arm to repeat the same maneuvers and hopefully break some of the thing's teeth in the process.

His bones shook as he aimed his arm up towards the jaws of the oncoming chimera and steadied his stance as it bit down, struggling to break through the automail. It paused for a moment, mind working to process his surprisingly impenetrable arm.

Meanwhile, Edward took that moment to glance past it's massive frame just as the alchemist began to take off again. Alphonse moved to follow, having no choice but to continue the annoying game of cat and mouse, but paused as his helmet hesitantly turned to Ed.

"Go after him, Al!" Edward called back as he pulled back against the chimera tugging on his arm. "Before he frees the other one! I'll be fine!"

If it were not for the impending threat of two giant chimeras running around, he thought that Alphonse might had argued. Instead, he abruptly turned away and followed the alchemist back in the direction of the cage.

It occurred to Edward then that leaving him alone with the chimera might have been the plan all along. Or maybe the nameless man was winging the whole thing, since there was no way to know where they would have ended up when Alphonse caught up. If there were such a preconceived plan, it would have hinged on Alphonse not appearing besides Edward; otherwise, he would have just intercepted the chimera's attack all over again.

Maneuvering around the depot in such a way that would result in something so convenient required either an impressive amount of strategic planning, or raw luck. Considering Edward's naturally impressive amount of bad luck, he couldn't be sure either way.

Not like it mattered at the moment as the large chimera gnawed on his arm, ripping through the red fabric with ease.

Edward quickly stepped to the side, using the weight of his momentum to swing is arm out of the chimera's grasp just as it loosened it's hold to readjust itself. While he did fail to pull some teeth out in the same movement, he spun around again and lifted his automail knee up to the animal's jaw, stunning it momentarily.

He took the opportunity to create some distance and think.

The ease in which he fell into this situation was downright annoying. Whether or not it was intentional, he allowed the bio-alchemist to put him at a disadvantage, fending off a massive chimera by himself.

Perhaps it was his own fault for not attacking as intently as he might have otherwise. Most of his opponents in this line of work were obvious scumbags with very punchable faces. Meanwhile, this guy came across as some average amateur that unknowingly got mixed up in something that was much worse than it first seemed. Were it not for his increasingly dubious intentions, it didn't need to be any more than that.

That all changed the moment he ordered his chimera to go after Edward.

For the time being, there wasn't much to do about it besides deal with the current threat, and return to his true objective afterwards.

If only it could be that easy.

The chimera slowly crept forward, one dangerously clawed paw in front of the other. He watched its movements closely- each muscle, every twitch, waiting for it to tense in preparation.

But it didn't come. The chimera seemed to be waiting for something; which was a realization that struck Edward seconds too late.

He heard a rush of movement from behind. His eyes widened, his defensive stance faltered, and he turned as hastily as he could the moment he registered the new threat. But by then, it had already jumped.

The second chimera inexplicably appeared from behind as a dark blur, giving Edward only enough time to turn so his metal shoulder took the brunt of it's weight, knocking him onto his back. Looming over him, it's jaws snapped, intercepted by his automail wrist just quickly enough to avoid it gouging into his neck.

Struggling to reclaim any semblance of balance as the chimera stood over him, jaws still firmly clamped around his right hand and denting the comparably more fragile parts of his arm, Edward looked up at it, it's face inches from his. It's eyes gleamed down at him, vengeful and angry, though shadowed by that unspoken agony that he recognized with another painful jolt. His strength wavered for a moment as shock overtook him, though he quickly remembered himself as he recognized the footfalls of the other chimera approaching.

The sheer confusion its' very presence brought on was enough to leave him frozen for what felt like minutes. It appeared far too quickly to make any sense, assuming the alchemist had managed to free it before Alphonse could catch up. It had only been seconds since they disappeared- it shouldn't have been there!

With a stiff inhale through his bared teeth, he brought his left arm up, close enough to feel the warm breathing of the chimera, and brushed his fingers together, followed by carefully trailing his hand up to meet his metal wrist, drawing dangerously close to the thing's teeth. The protective plating on his arm morphed with an alchemic flash into a spike that speared into the beast's mouth. Unfortunately, it reacted quickly, and reeled back with a surprised roar. Blood dripped from its mouth as it backed up, though Ed suspected he only scratched the top of its mouth.

The lighter chimera growled and he felt its shadow fall over him after a beat. Ed rolled himself to the side, narrowly missing its deadly claws digging into the graveled ground. He shifted back onto his feet, but remained close to the ground as he brought his hands down and uprooted the floor beneath it, and shot it flying into the cluster of storage crates with a startled yelp and a loud crash.

The other wasted no time in retaliating. The darker furred chimera rushed forward again, having recovered from nearly being impaled, and approached with a bloodthirsty growl. Edward attempted to repeat the transmutation, sacrificing time to watch its speed and calculate where best to strike. The ground just below it's paws sparked and unleashed out of the ground, but it reacted with shocking speed and jumped out of the way as if it has been expecting the attack.

Edward hesitated for a second, in which instinct took over and he scramble back to avoid the thing's razored teeth. He quickly clapped and brushed his hands against the ground once more in the same motion as he simultaneously tried to get to his feet. Nearly a dozen sharp, thin spires struck out of the concrete at an angle, mindlessly hoping to skewer the animal. But again, it avoided the attack, leaping into the air just before they could reach their full height, and landing harshly a mere foot away him. In the same motion, its lowered head reached out, clamping its teeth down around his right leg, sinking through the fabric and into his skin. Before the bite could dig too deep, Edward managed to land a metal kick into its cheek before scrambling to create more distance, doing his best to ignore the new gash and the discomfort from blood trailing down his leg.

Though it wasn't too bad of a wound thanks to his quick reaction, it would slow him down. Nonetheless, he knew he needed to get off the floor- that he would be most agile once he could collect his footing; but the chimera was giving him no time to do so. He had no moments to spare, forced to put every breath, every thought, into self-defensive alchemy.

He hoped Alphonse would appear, and cursed himself for sending his brother away. He wanted to call out, hope his voice would echo all the way to wherever he was, but he knew he lacked the breath to get even remotely close.

Mind racing and limbs shaking more from every close call, the beast closing in by the second, he created a wall between him and the chimera, hoping to gather at least a few extra seconds to breathe. But as if it wasn't even slightly surprised, the chimera charged into the wall, shattering through the morphed gravel on impact, and showering them both with debris.

Edward had not expected that. He paused, breathing harshly, coughing on the dust that rained down, and still unable to do any more than crawl backwards. He had unwittingly backed himself into a smaller space surrounded by large metal crates; but at least that would keep the monster from circling him.

Desperation and fear pulled at his instincts and prompted him to transmute his arm into the familiar blade, seeking any comfort he could get from having any kind of weapon. But before he could strike the blade outward, before he could stand upright, the chimera jumped forward again. Though he tried to attack in retaliation, it bit down on his metal arm a second time, though it somehow seemed to have a better understanding of what was happening.

Instead of simply biting down harder in hopes of piercing his armor, it's massive head rose, pulling his arm with it, and then abruptly yanked him to the side, destroying any semblance of balance Edward had previously gathered. Before he could so much as fully land on his back, it pulled his arm across to the other side, dragging Ed off his back and into his face. Then back and again, and again, like a dog with a toy.

The automail port strained; every bone that had been drilled into screamed in resistance. His elbow joint was pulled in horrible directions, and he was sure he felt something snap. His vision blurred as he was tossed every which way, incapable of collecting his barrings, certain that the darker chimera was trying to rip his arm off; as if it somehow understood that it was a major element in his transmutations.

It stopped its violent shaking with Edward landing unceremoniously on his side, dizzy and nauseous. He groaned, nearly forgetting about the very immediate danger. A chorus of voices in his head all shrieked at him to stand up, fight, _get away_ ; but before he could act, he blinked some focus back into his eyes just in time to see the chimera's large paw come down directly on his face. He huffed out a sharp gasp with a meager attempt to push the powerful paw off with his free arm, but was far too jumbled to regather the necessary strength.

His head was pushed against the hard ground as the chimera yanked again on his arm. The bolts that fastened the automail pulled against his collarbone, his ribs tightened, his lungs seemed to stop working, and his mind buzzed with fierce panic. His usually lengthy list of methods for getting out of tight situations hovered just out of grasp. He felt trapped, like cornered prey- paralyzed.

Even so, Edward was nothing if not stubborn. Though the fear and blaring alarms that rung deafeningly in his head, he insisted there still had to be a way out before the chimera decided to ditch the arm and go for his neck again instead- or, hell, actually succeeded in ripping the automail apart.

With his arm being violently tugged on and head forced into place, reaching up to touch his hands together proved to be increasingly difficult, especially when the massive paw was impeding his ability to breathe, and therefore think and move.

He managed to turn his head to the side, greedily sucked in a deep breath of air through his clenched teeth, and began to reposition his left arm in hopes of better pushing the animal off of him, through he hadn't yet thought of how. He didn't get the chance.

As he rolled his head under the weight, the chimera's paw followed the movement, though not in the way he had hoped. He had freed himself of it's weight, but at a cost.

It's claws streaked down his face, forcing him to flinch violently as they got too close to his eyes and a sharp burst of panic punched the breath out of him. Only a beat passed before he felt the sting, then the sticky wetness of blood dripping into his eyes. The moment he lost his ability to see, any semblance of control he pretended to have over the situation vanished, leaving only a frigid dread in its wake.

The stinging steadily grew until it seared. He could taste the blood, horribly distracted as the chimera still tugged on his arm, causing his right shoulder to throb relentlessly. He suddenly couldn't hear beyond the piercing buzz- he was screaming- or maybe just coughing on his own lack of air, wanting to scream.

He wasn't sure; and that was by far one of the most terrifying factors.

But with the paw no longer holding him down, he managed to move without thought as his self-defensive instincts kicked in. He barely registered moving at all, until he had already heaved his body up to tap his automail fingertips, but still there was resistance that prevented him from doing so. The chimera's front leg, clawed painted with his blood, had fallen onto the hood of his coat, keeping it securely pinned. Sparing no time to hesitate, his left arm slid out of the sleeve, giving him the flexibility needed to reach up and lightly touch his hands together before falling back to the ground with what little strength did not yet leave him.

Another spire struck out of the gravel right besides him. He heard a sharp animalistic yelp, and the grip on his arm loosened, allowing him to pull back, though the beasts teeth had punctured well into his other sleeve. Slipping out of it to free himself, he crawled back, still blinded, but managed to squeeze into a tight space between the storage crates and backed as far into it as he could. Claws skittered across the ground; he heard panting, nearby, too near- he was shaking.

Breaths heavy and choppy, interjected by overwhelming, feral fear, Edward rubbed at his eyes with his left arm, unable to move the other, though unconsciously flinched away from himself as he touched the wounds that stretched across his face. He had no concept of how bad it was; only that it was there, and that it hurt and he couldn't see and there was blood- everything he touched- he was sure he would choke on it.

His hand trembled fiercely, unable to feel anything besides the blood that seemed to have drenched him by then. Desperation fueling his movements, he used his jacket sleeve to help clear it somewhat until he could squint his eyes open, just as more bestial claws swiped through the opening between the crates. A harsh gasp tore through Edward's throat as he pushed himself against the wall, realizing with a terrifying chill that his immobile metal arm was stuck at an awkward angle against his body, keeping him from transmuting anything.

The darker furred chimera that had nearly ripped his arm off was gone and had been replaced by the lighter one sometime while he was blinded. It attempted to shoulder itself into the crevice, snarling, teeth bared, snapping, getting closer.

One of the large, heavy crates inched slightly as the beast pushed itself against them, metal screeching against the hard gravel. Edward couldn't breathe. His lungs, already tight from panic, compressed further as claustrophobia mixed with stilling fear, forcing him to gasp each breath, still tasting the blood that dripped down his face, as his mobility depleted with every inch the monster neared.

He couldn't think..!

His brain refused to function beyond anything besides the raw desire for it to _stop_ , to _get away-_

And then, it disappeared.

A blur of metal swept past the crates, taking the chimera with it. Ed blinked, frozen in place, as he caught light gleam familiarly off of steel. The figure tilted back into view, spiked arms wrapped around the animal, before it spun and tossed it clear across the area with a pained howl and a resounding crash.

"Brother!?"

Edward shuddered, his throat too tight with shock to utter a word. But the moment Alphonse knelt down by the opening between the crates, he felt a warm wave of relief, washing away the dread that had overwhelmed him.

Alphonse reached his hand out into the tight space, welcoming and safe. But he didn't accept it- not yet. Even though it was Al, even thought he knew his brother could fight them off with ease, he couldn't shake the primal desire to keep his limbs close, to avoid reaching out, leaving himself vulnerable if even by a fraction.

"T-the other one," he managed voicelessly, unable to keep his form from shaking or his voice from sound so damnably weak; but he lacked the ability to even chastise himself for it.

Alphonse shifted and glanced over his shoulder, then turned back, somehow able to convey his discomfort through his posture. "The other is already dead."

He paused, startled, unmoving, the words taking ages to process through the chaotic, juddering panic that warped any semblance of confidence that he usually wore so comfortably.

"It's okay now," Alphonse tried again. His voice was gentle and pleading, laced with his own fear; as if speaking to a frightened child.

Ed believed him. He _did,_ but his body refused to move, unable to shake the feeling that one of those beasts would spring out and bare its fangs once again.

It didn't make sense to him. Given a moment away from the impending danger, he was able to process that much; that it didn't _make sense._ His antics got him beaten and bruised constantly. It was nothing new. And yet, a part of his mind that he was not previously aware of took control and forced him to hesitate against his consent.

He was fine. The chimera was gone. A few scratches was nothing new. The chimera was gone, and he was _fine._

Besides the unbridled shaking, his limbs wouldn't move. His breathing refused to calm, and his eyes remained wide with fear, wet with what he would rather be blood than tears.

But he trusted his brother, so he willed himself to reach out to take Al's hand against every screeching voice in his head that demanded he stop, unable to keep the limb from shaking but finding himself far too tired to care. Alphonse shifted slightly to reach further, but paused with a sound akin to a gasp, his focus glued to Edward's arm and the blood that coated it. Several soundless heartbeats passed as he fought an internal battle, before he finally took hold of his brothers arm and pulled him out into the open.

Ed fell into his knees the moment he was freed from the small space, casting several side-glances around the area, afraid of seeing any hint of either chimera. When he saw nothing more than a motionless form of dark fur and a trail of blood further away, his head lolled downward to stare wearily at the blood-splattered ground. He stayed upright only by Alphonse's heavy gloves gently holding onto his arms.

"W-what- where are you hurt?" he asked nervously, giving off the impression that he too would be shaking if he could.

All Edward could bring himself to do in response was groan and raise his one able arm up to hover around his face, internally dueling with the desire to hide whatever mess marred him. The skin burned too fiercely, pulling a pained scowl onto his face, knowing he wouldn't be able to wipe much of it off with his sleeve.

"Brother..?"

It was the heavy worry in Al's tone that got to Ed the quickest. There was no use hiding anything; not from Al.

He rose his head, struggling to beat down the shame that wanted to manifest itself. He grimaced when the movement caused Al to gasp, his grip tightening slightly from the sheer surprise of his sorry state. Edward had no idea how bad he truly looked, but he was all too aware of the blood that continued to drip down his neck, soaking into his shirt, and the angry sting across his face that forced his eyes to tear up in reaction.

He fought to keep himself from squirming under Alphonse's heavy gaze, unable to keep the humiliation from rising, struggling against the almost overwhelming desire to drop his head again to keep his brother from seeing the wounds.

It wasn't supposed to happen.

The second chimera wasn't supposed to be there.

Edward dropped his eyes to the ground instead, clouded mind working to think up some kind of distraction before Al could push past the shock and keep asking questions. "What happened to the alchemist?" he asked gruffly , avoiding eye-contact as he bit into his lip without thought.

"I, uh... he's stuck to one of the metal crates near the cage. But when I got there, it was already open. I- if I had realized sooner."

The despondent shame in his voice kicked something into gear, loosening some of the tension that was keeping him from thinking, and he shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Al," he managed something like a weak grin, pretending it wasn't as fragile as it felt. "Just a few scratches; nothing I haven't dealt with before." He spoke as if he wasn't a shaking, quivering mess just seconds before; as if he wasn't soaked in his own blood and grinning through the vengeful sting that festered across his face, and ached deep into his leg.

It distracted him from the fact that the second chimera must have freed itself somehow, despite how unlikely it had seemed before.

"...it looks worse than that," Alphonse said tentatively, careful, with a collage of emotions under every syllable. Ed was sure he was only as composed as he was because of the armor.

"Could've been worse," he willed himself to say without his voice breaking. '"It's fine." He was lying right through his teeth. He wanted so badly for it to be true. His brutish, stubborn personality insisted that it was true, that it _should have been true,_ but a new dark voice that recently took up a shadowed corner in his mind callously reminded him that it wasn't.

He was _afraid._ Irrationally afraid in a way that forced his limbs to seize up and for his lungs and heart to work in overdrive in spite of the apparent lack of danger.

When he closed his eyes, he could still see those eyes staring into him, charged by the feral desire to rip him to shreds. He had faced plenty of humans who wanted him dead because he was an annoyance or an inconvenience. He had faced animals that wanted to defend themselves and acted on survival.

These chimeras were different. They acted purely on an obedient, conditional blood-lust that wanting only to fight for the sake of killing, and kill for the sake of fighting. It told him that there was indeed not a shred of humanity in those things. There was something much more terrifying, however.

He realized with an overbearing sense of disgust that he understood the mindset of rabbits and deer; prey animals, constantly on guard.

Edward would have stood up by then to further prove his feigned point, that he was okay, but he knew his legs would give out immediately. He couldn't let Al see that; not if he could help it.

He looked down at the black sleeve of his jacket; bloodied, but not as bad as his coat surely was- wherever it ended up. He gingerly wiped at his face again, careful of the wounds, but wanting to diminish the horrifying sight he surely made for Al's sake.

"We need to get you cleaned up," Alphonse said despondently as he extended a hand to help Ed stand up.

Edward shook his head, not yet accepting his brother's offer. "The alchemist is trapped, the chimeras are gone," he paused to send another worried glance around the area to make sure. He couldn't quite remember which chimera ended up where, but he hardly cared at the moment; as long as they stayed away or stayed dead. "We need to get him to give up the notes, or all of this would be for nothing."

Ed wasn't quite sure what reaction he was expecting, but he still felt unprepared for the shock that hit him when Alphonse shook his helmet resolutely and spoke in a tone that he used rarely, but always ended in him getting his way.

"It's not worth it, Ed. Let's just turn him over to the police; they'll find the notes."

"W-what..?" Edward stuttered, his mind chugging to keep up as he reeled back with something akin to offense slipping uncontrollably into his voice. Alphonse dropped his offered hand back to his side. "No way! We need to finish this ourselves. We can't just leave empty handed after I got all scratched up," he hissed, the small burst of anger pointed more towards himself as he gestured to his own body in disdain. Even so, he knew it was a dirty trick, and no matter how he tried to excuse it, it was nothing more than a guilt tactic.

Despite Ed's attempts, Alphonse was resolute. "It's not worth it." He repeated himself, each word said with such determination that Edward found difficult to argue with. "I won't risk letting you get an infection or something for the sake of saving your pride!"

Edward reeled back as if he had been slapped across the face. He stared at his brother, mouth agape and stunned into silence. However, he managed to have just enough clarity despite the thick shroud of persistent fear that muddled his thoughts to know that Al was acting through his own fear.

And he was right. After feeling like such a pitiable mess, Edward was desperate to hang onto any ounce of pride that he could.

Ed's lack of an immediate response caused Al to calm himself as he somehow sighed deeply, armored shoulders slouching somewhat.

"Please, Brother; the notes will be fine, and the alchemist will be dealt with. But right now, you're more important."

Edward flinched, each word wearing more and more into his thinly veiled defenses. He wanted nothing more than to finish what they went there to do: find the stolen research material. Every fiber in his body yearned to complete that one simple task, simply because he said he would, and his wounded pride demanded it.

And yet, he knew deep in his gut that Alphonse would not budge. He wanted to argue and fight until he got his way, also for the sake of falsely proving that he was _fine_ and not as damaged as he surely looked _._ Even so, he felt far too pathetic to try more than he already had.

Using a tremendous amount of effort, Edward eventually nodded; a single bob of his head, terse and stiff as it was, relenting to Al's will.

"Fine," he coughed under his breath, enduring as something coiled and writhed in disapproval. "But no hospital."

For a moment, it looked as if Alphonse would argue that as well. But perhaps realizing how much Ed struggled to agree to that much, he nodded in return.

Finally, Edward allowed his brother to help him to his feet as he bit into his lip, struggling to appear as steady as humanly possible. He wanted to jump and run at the slightest suggestion that there might be movement nearby, but he somehow kept himself relatively still until he reclaimed his balance despite the pain in his leg.

As he hobbled besides Alphonse towards where the bio-alchemist had been restrained, Edward thought back to that brief, vague moment of reflection he felt earlier; it seemed like ages ago.

It would be easy to say that he had somehow always known that perusing dangerous, wolfish chimeras was a bad idea.

But he had bad ideas every day; that wasn't quite it. It couldn't be. Or at least, it was something much more than that.

Instead, he dourly wondered if he knew from the beginning that no matter how much he fought and labored, his attempts would end in failure and with nothing to show for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The parental stuff I promised will start showing up soon enough, I swear. :') Gotta get through some fun angst first~  
> I've also gotten through the majority of what I had pre-written prior to posting the first chapter. I can't say how long I'll be able to keep up the weekly updates, especially since I am still in the middle of interviewing for a full-time job. But we'll see! Regardless, I am very excited for what this fic has to come. :D  
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

The sun had dropped towards the horizon, casting the city in darkness were it not for the orange ambient city street posts lit the roads. The train station was sparse of movement that evening besides the few stragglers that remained, hurrying distractedly to their destinations. Alphonse left to buy their tickets back to Central City while Edward managed to slip into the station's public restroom without being given more than a passing glance.

The small enclosed room was dark with a cold concrete floor and brown bricked walls, giving off the impression that the room was considered to be _indoors_ only as a technicality. The few stalls were empty, prompting Ed to turn the deadbolt behind him after a moment of paranoia. Doing his best to ignore the drowning buzz of the florescent bulb as it flickered overhead, he stepped up to the slightly cracked, water stained mirror.

That marked the first time Edward had seen his reflection since the incident.

He made an attempt to wipe away most of the blood with Al's help earlier, but they had nothing more than dirty scraps to work with. If he were to keep Alphonse from dragging him to the hospital, he had to somehow make himself look half decent. But looking at his reflection, Edward wasn't sure how possible that really was.

Long, angry claw marks stretched diagonally down his face from halfway across his forehead, down to his jawline. One cut through the corner of his mouth, another over the bridge of his nose. His right eyebrow was the same, slashed twice through, about an inch apart. His eye just narrowly avoided the same treatment, besides a shallow red line over his eyelid that suggested mild irritation; the same cut continued down his cheek, while the second ran right past the corner of his eye. Any closer, and he could have gotten permanent damage to his sight.

That was a single mild consolation amidst a stacking tower of downsides.

Each long, uneven line across his face burned horribly, and seeing the damage for himself only seemed to make it hurt more. It almost didn't feel real until he could look himself in the eye, see what passing strangers saw-- see what Alphonse saw.

His fingers curled around the rim of the sink as he leaned forward, tilting his head to keep the harsh shadows from obscuring his view. His limp automail arm hung heavily by his side, lightly clanking into the metal basin. He could still move his fingers, but something in his shoulder had definitely snapped. The port ached terribly, as if the chimera was still pulling on it, trying to rip the complicated device right out of his body.

A sharp, involuntary shudder prickled up his spine at the mere thought of it-- of how close the beast might have been to accomplishing it's goal. How close it's teeth were to his neck, his head-- it's claws, dauntingly hooked, running down his face, his eyes-- so close-- too close.

Edward shook his head, forcibly banishing the images out of his mind with a whispered groan.

His eyes, unwilling to look up at himself again so soon, dropped down to his left hand. While it thankfully wasn't targeted during the scuffle, the limb did not get out unscathed. His knuckles were covered with minor cuts and bruises from him being tosses across the gravel like a sack of dirt. As he stared wearily at his flesh hand, his vision zoned out and he felt himself being thrown back and forth so abruptly, his head began to spin and his vision wavered.

The moment he realized what he was doing, Edward turned on the water faucet, cupped his hand under the stream, then splashed it into his face.

He hissed through his teeth, gruff and breathless, somehow nearly forgetting about the multiple open wounds that marred him. But he didn't mind; the pain forced some clarity into his swimming mind, helping to will himself back into the present.

Hunched over the sink with a single forearm on the edge to hold him up, Edward leaned up into the mirror again with a pained scowl. The expression caused the claw marks to stretch and ache, but he watched them pull with a morbid interest that verged on disgust. It was almost surreal; like he was messing with something that he could simply pull off the moment he got bored with it.

But he couldn't do that.

These marks, red and angry and raw, would heal into scars that would follow him forever. They would serve as a constant reminder of... what _what,_ exactly? The one time out of many when he didn't listen to Mustang and got hurt because of it? Was that all it was?

A reminder of the time he tried to make himself feel better about letting Nina die in a contorted body that was shared with a dog-- the attempt that also failed, because he left empty handed, because he got hurt.

Pointless. It was so _pointless!_

Edward mindlessly pursed his lip, gritting through the sting as he mindlessly stretched the wounds, and pulled at the paper towels to begin wetting them down.

He glared up at himself again, adjusting his position, and gingerly patted the skin around the cut that ran deepest across his cheek. His nerves writhed in objection as he pressed to remove the dry, crusting blood, which wasn't made any easier as his hand continued to tremble. He kept missing, accidentally prodding a little too close to the gashes, grimacing with each light brush.

His mind kept wavering with each short spark of pain; he could still hear their blood thirsty snarling, hissing and snapping just inches away from his head.

With a frustrated grumble, Edward dropped the soaked towel along the edge of the bowl and went to shakily splash water on his face once more. Anything to keep himself from seeing how much his arm refused to stop shaking.

It hadn't been long since they dragged the alchemist to the police station and tied him to a post outside the building. Alphonse didn't want to waste time talking to them when Ed's wounds needed tending to, and Ed didn't want to look at any of the officers; or rather, he didn't want them to look at him.

Overall, it took maybe forty five minutes to do all of that and return to the train station, mostly thanks to how far out of town the depot was. If Edward had his way, it would have taken much longer due to his insistence to walk instead of finding a cab, but Al shot that idea down quickly.

Ed tried to tell him that it would do his leg some good to simply walk the injuries off. Unfortunately, he said this while he was pensively wiping the blood off of the grisly bite wound, and failed to sound particularly convincing.

It didn't quite occur to Ed that he was missing his coat until he was climbing into the back seat of the cab, wishing dearly that he could have pulled the hood over his head.

He usually never minded toting around his injuries like a badge of honor; his automail was evidence enough of that. He never cowered away from showing off what he had endured, using himself as an example for others to stand on their own two feet despite hardships. Even while missing half of his limbs, he wanted to inspire people to pull themselves off the ground and push through the stigma of being damaged.

Shying away from anyone who tried to catch a glimpse of the bloody mess scrawled across his face felt hypocritical and cowardly.

He always thought there was something cool about scars. They told stories, often ending in perseverance. It wasn't just that it was on his face that bothered him; a persistent little cut here or there would likely turn into something that he would brag about, if given the chance. It couldn't have been the size either, considering his shoulder and thigh were little more than two giant scars.

Right?

It was irrational.

He never cared what people thought; but he also despised being pitied. And what batter way to garner pity than to wear five scars strewn across his face?

But people pitied him for the automail; random strangers who didn't know better, or people who believed he was just a victim of the war.

It was different somehow.

He didn't know why or how, and that bothered him more than anything else; that he felt so pathetic despite the belief that this shouldn't have been any different than anything he had already endured.

_Irrational._

He hadn't noticed he was glaring into the reddened water that swirled around the sink until his hand began to ache from how tightly he was clenching his fist.

A forced exhale shuddered in his breath, willing himself to calm down. He told himself to relax. He told himself it was okay.

Edward tightened fist rose and slammed down into the edge of the sink; the rattling of pipes bounced sharply off of the brick walls. His hand throbbed, but he didn't care.

An irritable tension crawled through his body, wanting nothing more than for him to smash the mirror that persistently showed him such an aggravating image, but he managed to have enough sense to know punching the glass with his one usable arm would quickly turn regrettable-- no matter how much he wanted to find some outlet for the frustration that was quickly building.

_Calm down_ , he snapped at himself again with a quick exhale and a sharp glare at his reflection. He had no reason to be so upset. And yet, anger rolled off of him with every breath despite how sternly he told it to go away.

The wounds would heal. The alchemist would likely end up on trial. The chimeras had been dealt with, and the notes will end up in a dusty evidence locker.

Everything was fine.

It was  _fine..!_

But no matter how much logic and reason he tried to coax himself with, the gnawing frustration continued to boil and fester, adding weight to each breath, and tightness in his chest that built and built until there were tears in his eyes and such strain in his jaw and he was sure he would feel something crack.

_Just stop, goddammit!_

A deep, gaspish inhale tore through his throat, finally forcing his eyes to open, failing to notice they had ever closed, and he pushed himself a step away from the sink. His shoulders loosened and his breathing cleared somewhat as he stared at himself again; wondering what the hell was wrong with him.

The stress from several sources hovered over his shoulders; he had been trying to ignore them-- deal with them later. But the building pressure was impossible to dismiss, and his pitiful attempts to do so were only wearing down on him.

_Step back; take stock. Think rationally like a normal person._

The ugly, bloody clawed lines across his face pained him with every grazing thought. Regardless of all of his usual posturing, Ed would gain nothing from pretending like they didn't.

The bio-alchemist did not meet his expectations. Perhaps some part of him wanted to take out what happened to Nina on him, but his apparent lack of ill-intent made that difficult to justify-- up until he commanded his attack dogs to rip Ed's arm off, but it was too late to do much by then.

The fact that he allowed himself to get into that position at all pestered him as well, but it was more like a mild annoyance in comparison to his other concerns.

Then there was the research material. The notes that he turned into such a big deal-- that Mustang and Al to a lesser extent tried to get him to forget about and leave to someone else. He couldn't even find them in the end, making the entire trip entirely unsatisfying.

He was sure the police would be able to interrogate the location out of the alchemist with enough ease. But even so, a cold, hissing voice in the darkest corner of his mind insisted that the military wouldn't follow through; that they don't care, and would sooner let the guy go and forget about the stolen notes than lift a finger. The only way to get something done right was to do it yourself, but he tried and he _failed._

But if Ed were to be completely honest with himself, any real certainty that the military would pursue the notes in his place failed to console him even slightly. Edward wanted to find the notes because he said he would. Because he let Nina die. Because he let her twisted father use her like a lab rat right under his nose. Because no matter how much he squirmed, he couldn't do a single thing to make any of it better.

He could have at least done that much. He _should_ have been able to.

But he couldn't.

Instead, he got hurt. He got hurt, and Al was likely shouldering more blame than he had any right to. Ed got hurt, and he would have to one day walk into Mustang's office and show off the gruesome scars that he worked so hard for.

And that bastard was going to rub it right into his ruined face.

Edward sighed deeply, dropping at least a fraction of the strain off of his shoulders through sheer force of will. He had no choice but to not think about it for the time being. Block it out. Focus on what mattered in the present.

Clean the wound.

Nothing else.

With an arduous swallow, Ed buried his strife the best he could, and leaned back over the sink to continue rinsing the cold tap over his burning face. Minutes passed as he thought of nothing but the water dripping down his chin and the angry sting that eventually morphed into a pestering buzz as it went on. Eventually, he straightened his back and returned to gently dabbing at his skin with the paper towels, cleaning the wounds and keeping the bleeding at bay.

Without sparing more than a glance at himself, he knelt down in the corner and rolled up his pant leg, each motion hesitant and slow as the bloodied fabric stuck to his skin. He managed to wash most of it off and splashed some water onto the wounds themselves for good measure, irregardless of how much dripped down into his shoe. Rolling the fabric back down was uncomfortable, but he told himself he could let the bite mark breathe once they got onto the train.

As Edward was finishing up, a light knock tapped through the door.

“Brother?” In spite of his attempts to sound casual, Al's voice was hushed and concerned, not wanting to draw attention but clearly worried.

Instead of responding, Ed tossed the bloodied towels into the trash can, and glanced back to give the restroom one last look. He caught his own gaze, shuddered away from it, and unlocked the door.

For just a fraction of a second, he forgot about the intense urge to hide his face.

But it was Al.

It was just Al.

Somehow, that almost made it worse.

“Got the tickets?” Ed asked in a voice that was quieter than he intended once he stepped out into the station. He kept his back turned away from the expanse of the station; for no particular reason, he told himself.

Alphonse nodded with an idle gesture to two train tickets in his hand, but his thoughts were elsewhere, and his eyes were pinned studiously on Edward's injured. He fought to keep himself from squirming under the stare.

He knew Al was only trying to perceive it's seriousness, but that did little to quell the desire to turn away and skulk into the darkest corner he could find. Even holding eye contact for more than a second proved to be incredibly, unfairly difficult.

“How does it feel?” he asked tentatively as he absently wrung his hand together. “Are you sure we don't need to find a-”

“It's fine, Al; how many times do I gotta say it?” He sighed and attempted to roll some of the more obvious tension out of his shoulders to distract from how even the chilled air irritated the open wounds. “We have stuff at the dorm. A few hours on a train until then isn't going to kill me.”

Alphonse hesitated. His discomfort was almost palpable in the way he stood and looked down at his brother, regardless of the emotionless suit of armor. The longer he mulled on his thoughts, clearly torn, Edward fought to remain as composed as possible.

“If you're sure it's not that bad,” he mumbled at last, sounding far from convinced but lacking any idea of what else to do about it.

“Yeah.” He smiled up at Alphonse, ignoring the pain it brought him as his stomach turned, disgusted by how he lied through his teeth. “It's no big deal. Now let's get out of here.”

* * *

Roy fumbled between turning the page of his morning newspaper and keeping his coffee mug from dripping onto his fingers with what he would consider to be an impressive display of grace and poise. He usually didn't bother to fetch his second cup of the day until after he got to the office, but it was just one of those mornings.

He absently read through the week's weather prediction as he made his way through the hall, attention divided. Apparently a rainstorm would sweep across the city by the end of the week. He grimaced, not bothering to hide his displeasure. That far out, the predictions were often a hit or miss; he dearly hoped they would be missed. He didn't have the energy for rain. Granted, Roy would never said otherwise, but he would have liked his opinion to be taken into account at some point.

“Roy!”

The colonel paused, cautious of his coffee, and glanced over the newspaper to the stretch of the hallway where Maes was approaching him with a wave; as if there was anyone nearby that Roy would mistake him for.

“Hughes,” he greeted as he folded the newspaper under his arm to better cradle his drink. “Isn't it a little early for you to be bothering me?”

Maes didn't respond right away. He didn't beam at Roy or lightly chastise him for his morning gloominess. He didn't immediately pull out an impressive collection of family photos. Though only seconds of silence passed as his friend focused only on closing the distance, Roy immediately went on-guard.

Even after meeting him in the middle of the otherwise empty hall, Maes looked at him for a long moment as if he were searching for something or trying to make a decision. Roy returned the look with one of mild irritation, fueled by an uncertain concern. “What?”

Apparently unsatisfied with whatever conclusion he came to, Maes leaned back with a mild frown. “Ah, you didn't happen to send Edward off to East City, did you?”

Roy blinked, somehow keeping his expression mostly neutral even as a spike of dread hit him in the head. “No.”

_God dammit, Fullmetal._

Maes smiled nervously, sympathetically. “Not sure if that makes it better or worse.”

Roy cast a cursory glance around the area to confirm that no one was within earshot. “What did the brat do now?” he grumbled under his breath.

“Word is, the alchemist responsible for those wild chimera attacks in East City was arrested last night.”

Roy sighed as he adjusted his grip on the cup of coffee. “Really,” he huffed expectantly and continued the walk to his office with Hughes falling into step beside him.

Maes bobbed his head in a pensive nod. “Mmhm. Knocked out cold and tied to a post outside of a local police station, with a note taped to his forehead that claims he stole Tucker's old research material.”

Roy didn't react for a long moment, besides lightly drumming his fingers against the warm mug. “Of course,” he eventually muttered, wondering if the note was actually much more colorful than Maes let on, considering Fullmetal's style.

His friend fell silent as they walked into Roy's office. Besides Hawkeye and Falman, no one else had arrived yet. The two were in the process of setting up their desks for the workday, and greeted them normally. He and Maes returned the gestured, but continued into the inner-office without much more, indifferent to how suspicious it may have looked.

Roy fell into his desk chair and took a grateful sip of the mediocre cafeteria coffee.

“So Fullmetal went behind my back and tracked this guy down despite that being the one thing I ordered him _not_ to do.”

Maes leaned against the edge of his desk and crossed his arms with a sympathetic half-smile. “There's a bit more to it than that.” Roy watched him warily. “Apparently the same police station was paid a visit earlier that day by the Elric brothers, who claimed to have been sent by you.”

That, at least, was enough to snap Roy out of his enduring repose. “He _what?!_ ” He set his drink down before he could spill all over himself.

Maes pursed his lip, most likely feeling more pity for the hellfire Roy was going to rain on that brat, than anything else.

“Yeahhh,” he drawled out slowly. “It didn't take long for East Command to put the pieces together. It probably won't be long now until you get asked some very pointed questions from them. Figured I'd give you a heads up.”

Roy only barely suppressed an irritable growl at the very thought of having to defend himself from whichever officer was sent to address his nonexistent involvement in the mess Fullmetal created. Instead, he exhaled roughly as his eyes narrowed in calculating thought.

He couldn't afford shit like this. Roy was still grappling for a decent foothold in the piranha tank that was Central Headquarters, working tirelessly to make as many allies as he could; or at the very least, avoid making more enemies. For all he knew, Edward smearing dirt over his name would be the pebble that causes an avalanche.

Roy knew he needed to find a way to somehow spin the situation into his favor; that was the only way to survive this cutthroat environment.

He could do the obvious thing and try to convince them to thank him for taking care of the chimera attacks for them, but no amount of pretty words would change the fact that Edward's actions were a direct breach of protocol; and despite how much the kid insisted that such things did not matter, they most certainly did.

“Try to go easy on him, yeah?”

“No promises,” he huffed after a moment. “Do you know anything else about the case? Anything on those chimeras?”

“Hardly,” Maes shrugged regrettably. “Most of it is just gossip so far, though I expect to learn more soon enough. Last I heard, they only recently started interrogating the alchemist.”

Roy hummed noncommittally as he mused over the little information he had so far. He wasn't exactly excited for this issue to be his main priority for the day, but there seemed to be no helping it now. If he was going to defend himself, he needed to know as much as he could beforehand, such as the fate of the chimeras and those stolen notes.

“How much I learn depends entirely on what East Command chooses worthy to share. At this rate, you may have a better chance at getting information out of them than I will.”

That much was probably true; Hughes had no true reason to go snooping into the case that Fullmetal so kindly tied a cheaply knotted bow around; but if Roy played his cards right, he could turn the impending conversation regarding his subordinate's actions into a more favorable direction.

“I'll see what I can do,” he sighed, then went to absently reach for his coffee before it got cold.

“Then I'll leave you to it,” Maes said earnestly and pushed himself away from the desk. Thankfully, he also had enough sense to keep from making some remark about dinner plans, as he might had ordinarily. Instead, he merely left Roy to making preparation for the storm that would soon roll in.

Alone again with his thoughts, the colonel stared into space for a moment, then glanced over at his clock.

If the Elrics were in East City the night before, then they either took a late night train, or booked a hotel room. If the latter were true, it would be difficult to track them down in a timely manner. He was sure there would be no devastating consequences that required their presence promptly (they did solve a crime, after all), but Roy would greatly prefer to chew the kid out before his own superiors did the same to him.

Swiveling his chair to the side, he swept up the phone and quickly dialed in the number to their dorm room, deciding that he would inquire into the activity of the other brother's bank account if he didn't get an answer.

He leaned back in the chair and turned to glare out his window as he waited for the dial tones to come and pass.

Some part of him was surprised when his call was actually picked up, although by a timid Alphonse. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Alphonse,” he greeted cordially, willing to gamble that the younger brother was much less to blame for the breach in protocol. “Would you get Fullmetal on the line?”

A _yes_ would have been ideal. A _no_ wouldn't have been shocking. But the silent hesitation, the slight muffle through the phone as he suspected the armored kid took the time to draw his attention elsewhere-- that was off-putting.

“Oh, uh...” there was a long pause over the line. Roy listened closely, managing to catch the vaguest suggestion of another conversation occurring between the brothers.”I'm not...” He trailed off, distracted by more distant murmurers. Then there was a louder shuffle as the phone was passed over. But even then, the silence drifted on for several heartbeats more.

Until finally, Edward's voice filtered through the line. “Yeah?” The response was heavy and tired, weighted down by some unseen force. However, Roy was far too distracted to dwell on it.

“You've been busy,” he stated sharply.

“What do you want?”

“I clearly remember telling you that you were not to go snooping into East City's business.”

Fullmetal's responses were usually lightening-fast, but he seemed to take his time, letting the seconds pass without a care before bothering to speak. “And?”

Roy was certain he felt his eye twitch. “Must I spell it out? That's a breach in regulation, direct insubordination, and now I have to deal with East Command thanks to you throwing me under the bus!”

“What's that mean?”

His annoyance was rising by the second. The kid's tone implied that he simply chose to use as little syllables as possible to ask what the consequences would be. “

“It means we'll both be lucky to get out of this without a court martial.”

“Quit exaggerating,” Fullmetal sighed with far less vehemence than Roy was used to. “It took me a few hours to find the guy they've been chasing for days; they should be thanking me.”

“It's that kind of attitude that will land you into even more trouble,” Roy snapped. “And the more trouble you're in, the more trouble _I'm_ in.”

“God forbid.” The complete lack of concern from the kid threatened to kick up the acidic irritation that Roy was already working hard to keep down.

“Listen, Fullmetal,” he growled, unaware to how tightly he was holding the phone. “I want a full report of what happened down there on my desk by the end of the day. And a formal apology to whoever was actually in charge of the case for good measure. A hint of humility might do you some good.”

In spite of what he might claim otherwise, Edward tended to act based on emotion. It made him impulsive and quick to respond, and unpredictable in his own special brand of predictability.

Roy was expecting his words to stir up that familiar anger. But instead, he got a short beat of silence that, while seemingly insignificant, carried weight and whispered a warning that Roy was too distracted to consider at the time.

“That's not going to happen.” When the kid did respond, it wasn't the words that threw Roy off, but the way he said them. There was something cold in his voice, though not targeted at him. He spoke slowly, quietly, and yet there was something unstable about it.

Unfortunately, Roy was too irritated to care.

“It damn well better happen! There are consequences to pulling stunts like this, Fullmetal. In this case, dropping your stubborn pride for a second is one of them.”

There was a subtle shift on the other end of the line-- a sound that Roy assumed to be a heavy exhale caused by weariness. He couldn't see any reason for it to mean anything beyond the kid not getting enough sleep due to the late-night traveling. He chose not to consider Fullmetal's infamous knack for falling sleep on trains.

“Shut it, Mustang. You don't get it.”

Roy scoffed. “Oh, don't I,” he asked sardonically. “Then why don't you enlighten me on why I am so terribly uninformed?”

He wasn't exactly sure what kind of answer to expect. Some part of him, far back in the darkest corner of his mind, was hoping for something loud and annoyed and obnoxious, because that would have been normal; that could be easily shrugged off.

But in fact, he didn't receive an answer at all.

The line went dead. Fullmetal had hung up, leaving those few vexing words floating uncomfortably in the air. Roy remained still for a few drawn out seconds, forced to recall the extent of the conversation and the many factors of it that simply did not add up.

By the time he finally set the handset back down, the only thing Roy knew for sure was that he wouldn't be getting that report unless he went to the kid in person and forcibly dragged it out of him.


	6. Chapter 6

The following day, Edward had consigned himself to holing up in the small, quiet dorm room. He was hiding away without being entirely sure of what he was trying to avoid. If he were to be kind to himself, he would compare it to how animals could sense when a storm was coming and knew to avoid it. More realistically, he was sure he was simply being cowardly.

No one had bothered the brothers yet, and they had heard nothing of the bio-alchemist or the chimeras since. Besides that conversation with Mustang, he had been left alone. Based on how annoyed the colonel was, he knew it to be only a matter of time; Ed told himself to enjoy it while it lasted.

Sitting at the dorm's single shared desk, he had opened up the plating of his automail and had been poking around the wires and mechanisms, looking for whatever could have been out of place. He knew Winry would bludgeon him if she found out, long before Al nervously reminded him a grand total of three times over the last hour. He responded with a forced certainty that a single screw had probably been pulled out of place, and it wasn't worth the travel to fix. He had gotten minor tune-ups and did his own maintenance in the past; it wasn't a big deal.

Even so, he was hesitant to do anything to it- which may have been ironic, given how often he would transmute the entire limb with reckless abandon. He couldn't afford to mess something up. He couldn't bring himself to go to her the way he was.

The taunts that echoed around his skull, reminding him that she would see the scars one day or another, pounded until he had a splitting headache. He tried his best to push it out and focus entirely on shifting the wires around with a screwdriver, pretending to himself and Alphonse that he was actually doing something.

Edward needed _something_ to do. The less focused he was, the more wandering, tormenting thoughts could make their way in. The worst of them came from his phone call with Mustang. The words he said cycled around his mind, persistently returning only seconds after he continuously tried to push them back.

Mustang didn't understand.

He was too focused on his military politics to step back for even a second to consider that maybe Edward had some other thing's going on at the moment. And yet he somehow expected Ed to care about protocol and a few damaged egos after a massive chimera nearly ripped his throat out.

The rational part of his mind told him that the colonel couldn't possibly have known anything about the injuries Ed sustained, or any trauma that may have resulted in it- no matter how stubbornly Ed tried to tell even himself that he was _fine._

It was irrational, and he knew it, but he hated it anyway.

He was angry at Mustang for not knowing, but refused to tell him.

It wasn't fair for either of them. And yet, he would look in the mirror and feel the air burn against his skin and he knew he didn't care. He was too angry to care. Too angry at himself and for the situation he had gotten into- that he put himself into.

Edward didn't _want_ to care. He just wanted to let himself be angry, if only to feel even a little justified in it. As if that would fix something.

He hadn't quite realized that his arm had remained motionless with the screwdriver in-hand, or that he was staring into space. Alphonse spoke up from his position on the floor besides the bed, surrounded by a dozen books.

"We'll have to return some of these soon," Al said conversationally.

Edward shook himself out of his thoughts and pensively looked over his shoulder, ignoring the familiar tinge of relief when he saw Al was not looking back at him. Instead, he was skimming through the last few pages of the research book in his hand.

"Yeah," Ed murmured, quieter than intended. He knew Alphonse had been humoring him in killing time, trying to find as little reason to go outside as possible. But without any new books, they were running out of excuses.

The silence drifted for a moment until Al continued under the hidden weight that hung over their heads. "I can go to the library by myself. It's okay if you want to stay here."

Ed didn't think it was okay. His reluctance must have been evident as he turned his gaze back onto the surface of the desk, idly twirling the screwdriver between his fingers. "I..."

"It's okay, Brother," Al said again, cutting into the thought that Ed was yet to put together. "I know you're uncomfortable about people seeing you right now. You don't have to deny it for my sake."

Edward breath got stuck in his throat.

"I'm sure I'd feel the same in your place," Alphonse continued gently. "Besides, it's not fair for you. I should have been able to keep that chimera from getting out."

Edward spun around in his seat, staring agape at the suit of armor that was still looking down blankly at an open book. "Al, that's- you said it had gotten out before you could get to it; that's not your fault."

"Yeah," Alphonse sighed, sounding none too convinced. He leaned back against the side of the bed and looked over at Ed, who resisted the urge to look away. "I'm still trying to figure out how it got out in the first place. I'm certain the alchemist didn't get there quickly enough to do it, and I don't remember seeing any holes in the sides or anything."

Edward thought back to the evidence truck that got shredded months ago, and the continued evidence of it at the depot. The alchemist implied that whatever chimera was capable of that had since died.

"Thinking back on it," Al continued hesitantly. "I didn't get a good look, but I thought maybe one of the cage beams looked a bit out of place... But it was probably always like that, right?"

"I don't remember noticing anything," Edward mused quietly as he tried to pull at the mental image. After a moment, he chuckled. "Hey, maybe it unscrewed the beam out of the floor itself." His laugh quickly died once the words left his mouth.

It seemed impossible for a chimera to use it's claws to undo industrial screws that held a metal bar in place, but if the thing was as intelligent as the alchemist implied, then... why not?

An uneasy silence fell over the room, until it was soon interrupted by the shrill ringing of their phone. Edward flinched away from the sound.

"Don't bother," he huffed when he saw Al was about to stand up. "It's probably just Mustang wanting to complain again."

Alphonse paused his movement and settled for studying his brother. "Don't you think it's important? You can't just ignore him forever."

"I know, Al. I don't think I can have a civil conversation with him right now." As if any of their conversations could have been called _civil_ , but his stupid, irrational emotions were still too raw.

The ringing of the phone eventually stopped.

"It sounds like what we did was a pretty big deal," Al stated slowly. "What do you plan to do?"

Edward pursed his lip and glared at the wall. "I don't know."

Seconds later, the phone's ringing picked up again. Guided by a new surge of irritation, Edward slid from the desk and over to the side table besides the bed with his limp arm weighing him down. He picked up and immediately dropped the phone's handset to stop the noise, and sat back down without another word.

x

A full day had passed and East Command was yet to contact Roy. As time dragged on, he quickly began to wonder if it was more of a blessing or a curse, now that he had been left with little to do besides wait in anticipation. He had more time to plan and devise, on one hand, but the uncertainty was steadily getting to him. He struggled to focus on his other work, which Hawkeye was certainly not happy about. It was safe to say that the majority of that day and the day before had been wasted, as far as his growing stacks of paperwork was concerned.

When he finally received respite from his toiling thoughts, it was in the form of a nondescript manilla folder that somehow ended up on his desk while on it's way from the Information Department. Roy promptly fled to the confines of his inner-office to read it over.

It didn't hold much; a police report on where the bio-alchemist had apparently been hiding away. An abandoned train depot, far out in East City's southern outskirts.

The first important detail to stick out was the unusually large animal corpse that was found slumped besides a badly dented metal storage crate. The report described it as a mutated wolf with bear-like characteristics, aptly fitting the photograph that was taken of it days prior.

The second detail for Roy to note was the impressive amount of blood that was speckled around the area, varying greatly in amount. It was unknown how much of it was from an animal or a human.

Roy paused and leaned back in his chair, allowing the half-read report to fall to his desk. He thought back to his call with Edward and the plethora of red flags. Knowing the foolhardy nature of that kid, Roy would have been more shocked if the blood did not belong to him- or at least some of it. But if that were the case, he would have found the kids mulling around a hospital instead of their dorm room. If he got badly hurt, Alphonse wouldn't have budged on that.

With that in mind, the colonel assumed Fullmetal was hurt, but not badly enough to warrant a hospital trip. He had to have gotten hurt somehow; otherwise, too many pieces would not fit together; the way he acted, the way they simply left the alchemist alone for someone else to find...

Roy readdressed the report, skimming the second half for something that could confirm his thinking.

He read through mentions of an excessive use of alchemy, which removed any deniability they might have had otherwise. How wonderful.

If there was any information on the bio-alchemist's identity, it was written elsewhere. Roy hoped that file would also conveniently find it's way to him soon enough. The report analyzing the depot was probably one of the first written. Seeing as only a day had passed, it was impressive that it had gotten to Central Command already; Roy wondered just how many strings Hughes was pulling for him.

Through his musing, Roy heard the phone in the outer office ring. He ignored it as it was answered and he heard Hawkeye's voice through the door. Despite the rising concern that the call was for him, he skimmed through the remainder of the report, dedicated to memorizing as many important details as possible before he would have to return it to wherever it belonged.

"Sir," Hawkeye greeted as she knocked on the door and opened it in the same beat. "It's East Command; they want to schedule a telephone meeting with you."

Roy frowned. "If they ask, tell them I'm in a meeting right now; and pen something down for tomorrow morning." Even if it was only to make an appointment, he didn't want to speak with them just yet. He still needed to decide what to do about Fullmetal; and talk to him, for that matter.

Hawkeye left with a nod, allowing Roy to return to his thoughts. His eyes fell down to the report, glazing over the black lines of text as he idly tapped his fingers against the wooden surface of his desk.

It gave him a better idea of what happened, but none of the information there helped him with his current situation. Hell, he wasn't sure what kind of information would help him anyway.

His biggest priority was ensuring this ordeal would not negatively impact his career or reputation. Thef first route to come to mind was to throw Ed under the bus to protect himself, but realistically, there was no way to do that without also getting criticized for having such an unruly subordinate. So no, that wasn't an option; if he were to get out of this, Edward would have to as well- to some degree.

Perhaps he could coerce the head of the chimera case into some kind of agreement. But that all depended on if they wanted anything he could provide. Then again, being stationed in Central and having a close tie to the Investigations department gave him a head start.

But even so, first things first.

With a weary sigh, he reached for his phone and tried Fullmetal's number again, not expecting much but still daring to hope that he would be able to make some progress.

The dial tone rung on as he leaned back and crossed his legs, as if the leisurely position would somehow lighten his mood. But the ringing stopped and he received no answer. With an annoyed grumble, he immediately went to try again. He tapped his food impatiently, but the wait was much shorter the second time around. The call had been cut, hung up before being answered.

Roy blinked into space for several beats before lowering the phone.

At the very least, he knew the kid was there, and refusing to talk to him, blissfully unaware of the situation Roy was in. How carefree of him.

If that was how Fullmetal wanted to play it, then Roy would be damned if he'd simply play along. No, he wouldn't be letting Ed off that easily.

* * *

Roy walked through the long corridors of the military dorms, charged with annoyance that he had disguised with purpose. He often tried to avoid reasons to visit the dorms, albeit subconsciously; he fully enjoyed the freedom of living away from the grounds. His time spent in dorms were not especially kind. Since then, the only reasons he ever had to walk through those bland halls were usually to yell at Fullmetal. Some things never changed.

He had left the office during his lunch break, hoping that this unplanned meeting would not take long. Currently, his only saving grace was that the dorms were just a short stroll away, though it wasn't nearly enough time to consider what his plan was.

Part of him had to wonder if there were better things he could have been doing- if there was really anything to be gained by forcing Edward to speak to him face to face. He couldn't deny that some of his motivation came purely from annoyance with Ed's unreasonable desire to ignore him. He just wanted to try yet again to drill it into the kid's thick skull that he could not act like that, but perhaps he was just using it as an excuse to vent at Edward's expense.

Maybe it was both. But it needed to be more than that. He needed to know why they simply left the bio-alchemist there, why they didn't go after the notes that Ed was so hellbent on getting his hands on, why he had been acting so strange.

Hopefully some of the answers would somehow help him figure out what to do. Even so, he hoped he was exaggerating. Maybe East Command didn't care as much as he expected them to. Maybe they remembered him more fondly than expected and merely wanted to use it as an excuse to catch up and chat.

Unlikely.

Roy found preparing for the worst case scenario to be the most comforting course of action.

He knocked on the door, resisting the urge to fold his arms impatiently. If he knew anything about Fullmetal, it was that going into this conversation with an outright sour mood would get him nowhere. He doubted he would be able to hold onto that silver of composure for long, but it was better than nothing. Seconds passed without any response, but he waited; he could almost sense the panic that flowed from the door as subtle muffles of movement came from within; small and swift scrambling, the heavy, metallic clank of armor, up until the door was opened.

Alphonse appeared in view, hesitant and tentative, only opening up enough to look out; not enough for Roy to see a clear view of the inside, or receive any unspoken invitation to enter. He knew Edward didn't want to speak with him, but the pensive reaction caused him to quickly rethink some things.

"Oh- hello, Colonel. Uh, what can I do for you?"

Roy couldn't help the quiet, muffled scoff as he fought off a slight smile. They both knew why he was there and what he wanted. "I'd like to speak with your brother," he said cordially, knowing better than to subject Alphonse to any of his loosely restrained irritation.

"Uh, yeah, he, uh..." Al cut off his own stammering as he looked over his shoulder, then turned back to Roy, somehow appearing as if he had been stuck between a rock and a hard place. "Brother isn't really... uh..."

Roy allowed his expression to soften as he watched the kid struggle. He had arrived there with enough certainty, but it quickly began to waver. Despite as certain he was that he didn't have time for their drama, he couldn't fend off the curiosity that bravely began to wonder if something was _wrong._ Ignoring the signs so far had all been out of sheer convenience, but they were getting harder and harder to push aside.

"I just need to ask some questions, Alphonse. I'm not here to instigate him." If he were to be honest, he actually _was_ there to instigate him. He planned on going off about not listening to orders and suffering the consequences, but perhaps he would have to adapt and change his approach. There _would_ be consequences either way, but one thing at a time.

Alphonse sighed and gave the inside of the room another cursory glance, then seemed to inch closer to Roy and spoke in something akin to a whisper. "Brother wouldn't want me saying so, but he... he got a bit hurt in East City, and doesn't want people to see." He shifted his weight in discomfort. "I think he's embarrassed but he's trying not to show it."

Roy was forced to stop and digest the new information and what it implied. He had never known Edward to shy away from anything or be embarrassed or have even the slightest bit of shame, for that matter. Anything that would juxtapose that image was cause for concern, he supposed.

But damn it, Roy could hardly afford to worry about any scuffs the kid got as he was busy ignoring direct orders.

However, this was clearly more than a few minor wounds. He began to wonder what could possible be bad enough to warrant such a reaction without needed to drop into a hospital. As technical as it was, he was the kid's legal guardian and would have heard if such a thing were to happen.

Feeling his shoulders drop in reservation, Roy willed himself to adapt his intentions. "I don't need to see him; I just need to talk."

Alphonse looked at him for a long moment until he finally gave a hesitant answer. "Alright," he drawled uncertainly and further opened the door.

Roy stepped inside, glazing over the stacks of books that littered the floor as always, and landed his attention on the restroom door that had been firmly shut with light streaming out from below.

He paused, allowing himself to consider all of the strange hints that he had picked up along the way. From Edward's particular reaction on the phone yesterday, to learning he had been embarrassed by an injury, Roy inwardly remarked just how much intrigue was surrounding the kid. There was a strange amount of mystery here that he didn't think he had time for, but it begged for his curiosity all the same.

His main focus was set on getting answers and use whatever information he can get to better spin the situation, but he couldn't deny the raw curiosity that threatened to derail his train of thought completely.

"Where's that report, Fullmetal?" he asked through the door. His tone lacked it's usual steely quality in an effort to get a response without completely setting the kid off.

A beat of hesitation from within. "...Al!"

"Sorry, Brother," Alphonse sighed from behind. "But you shouldn't keep dragging this out; it's unnecessary."

Edward mumbled something, the words left incoherent from the other side of the door, then directed his attention back to Roy. "Didn't I make it clear enough that I'm not in the mood to chat?"

"As much as I would _love_ to respect that, you need to understand that you can't do whatever you want; three years in the military, I would've thought you'd figure that out by now."

"It was never a problem before," the kid growled lowly.

"There's a big difference between being a pain in my neck, and stomping around another city's cases."

"I _solved_ that case for them."

"No matter how convenient the results are, there are still consequences to disregarding the rules."

"God- I don't _care,_ Mustang. Do whatever you want, I don't care."

Roy opened his mouth to snap back, but the slight shift of armor behind him reminded him to cool down. He exhaled through his teeth and willed his fists to unclench. "Well unfortunately for you, I _do_ care. I'll be speaking with someone from East Command tomorrow to figure out what exactly we're going to do about your actions."

Edward scoffed.

"Therefore," Roy continued strenuously, "I need your report. And if you're not going to write it down, then just tell it to me now."

Fullmetal sighed deeply, arduously, as if each breath equated to the tremendous effort required to keep somewhat calm.

Roy frowned and folded his arms, feeling his patience wearing thin as echos of his promise to Al whispered in the back of his mind. "Must you really insist on having this conversation through a door?" he asked nonetheless.

"Must you insist on having this conversation?"

"Don't be difficult. Just tell me why you're so resolute on hiding."

For a moment, Roy thought he heard a low grumble as Fullmetal was surely holding himself back from exploding. "No."

"Because you got injured? Alphonse already told me. Unless you're missing another limb, I don't have the time to drag you to the hospital, if that's your concern."

"That's not-" He cut himself off sharply just as his voice was about to rise into a yell. "That's not it."

"Then what's the problem?" he barked, unable to understand what could possibly make Fullmetal of all people embarrassed enough to hole himself in a restroom.

"It's none of your damn business! I'll tell you what happened yesterday, but I'm not coming out."

Roy just barely bit his tongue before he could grumble about how childish he was being. He caught Al's gaze in the corner of his eye, then glared back at the door. "Fine."

"What even is there to know? We found the alchemist, fought some chimeras, and left him at the police station."

"What happened with the chimera?"

"Nothing! They... they're dead, it doesn't matter."

"Somehow, I don't think-"

"What else?" Edward cut in, sloppily attempting to guide the conversation away from what was apparently such a sensitive topic.

Roy exhaled deeply. "You also missed out the part where you told an officer that I had sent you there."

"Yeah? So?" Edward snapped, his irritation rising with each word. "What the hell you want me to do about it now?"

"I wasn't joking when I brought up a written apology. Depending on how my meeting with them goes tomorrow, you may need to play every card you have."

"Let them do whatever they want; I don't care what they choose to do about me _helping_ them."

Roy groaned. "Great," he snapped sarcastically. "Except your thoughtlessness means I also have to endure the repercussion, and I'll be damned if I let you drag me down with you. I can't afford this kind of carelessness." He took the following silence as an invitation to continue. "To make up for it, you're going to do whatever it takes to make them happy and quiet, even if it means sweeping sidewalks for a month." Still nothing. "More realistically, I won't be shocked if you end up in a court martial to be judged by a group of generals. Even if nothing comes of it, the process will help heal their wounded pride."

A loud bang hit the door, abruptly enough for Roy to jump, shocked out of his festering thoughts. He glanced back at Al, who remained nervously silent on the other side of the room.

"I'm not going to any court martial."

Roy blinked, pushing himself to recover from the jolt of Edward slamming a fist into the door. "You wouldn't have a choice. All things considered, that would be my best bet of getting out unscathed, especially since you clearly have no regard for your reputation within the military."

"Not doing it. Find something else."

Roy blinked, taken aback by the seemingly nonsensical stubbornness. "Oh- what, because you're embarrassed _?_ You think for a second that a few war vets will care about how many bruises you've earned yourself? Hell, maybe you'll get a pity vote out of it at least- assuming you're not actually overreacting."

"Shut up!" Fullmetal growled venomously. "You don't get it!"

"And I still doubt there's anything else _to get_ ," he shot back without missing a beat. "Besides your stubborn insistence to be a childish, bull-headed, little-"

Roy's impulsive, angered train of thought was forced to an abrupt halt as the doorknob jarred and it was yanked open with enough force to dent the wall. It wasn't the motion that made him pause, but the sight of Fullmetal glaring up at him with multiple starkly red gashes drawn across his face, grazing one of his eyes; his eyes that burned with such an intense frustration that Roy was stunned into place as the breath was knocked out of him.

Alphonse noticeably stiffened behind him as his tense discomfort rolled off in waves.

Roy blinked once or twice, struggling to break out of the shocked stare, but he couldn't pry his eyes away from the angry, raw marks that were so clearly from the claws of a large animal. For a moment, he felt the pain they must have inflicted on the kid, and caught a glimpse of the terror that must have come from the moment when it happened.

Images fabricated themselves in his mind of a wolfish beast standing over his subordinate, jaws snapping, massive claws aimed for his head, blood- the surprising amount of blood found in the depot, unsure if it was human or animal. Suddenly, he had a much better idea.

Without thought, his eyes moved in search of more ghastly injuries, catching a hint of bandages wrapped around his ankle, likely running up his calf; he stood at a slant, favoring his automail leg. Edward was wearing a long sleeve shirt, but his hand looked scuffed and battered, though nothing else was particularly alarming. Considering just how much wind was punched out of Roy at the sight of his face, he wouldn't have been able to handle much more.

When Roy's gaze found it's way back up to his, the unbridled frustration he saw there was bellied with a powerful discomfort as Edward struggled to hold eye contact and warred with the desire to step out of view. Even when missing half of his limbs and confined to a wheelchair, Roy had never seen him so shamed.

"I'm not going to a court martial."

Roy nearly forgot what they were talking about. The wounds were clearly not life threatening and he has seen soldiers with worse wounds, but there was no denying the ugly scars that would remain for years to come.

"I... see."

Roy internally grimaced, having found himself so speechless. He hadn't given the supposed injuries nearly enough thought, and suffered a damaging blow as a result.

The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut with a knife. Edward was staring at the doorframe, Al looked like he would jump at the first reason presented to leave all together, and Roy, for one of the few times in his life, was speechless. Agonizingly long seconds passed before be finally managed to kick himself out of the trance and reclaim even a semblance of his composure.

He mentally rifled through his list of priorities and concerns, and decidedly pushed them all aside besides the one that was staring back at him. He willed himself to focus on it, even if it meant allowing his original purpose to be temporarily forgotten.

Roy breathed, releasing the distractions that harped on in his ears, and softened his expression. "Let me look at it," he huffed as he took a small step forward, which Edward copied by shifting backwards.

"I- I came out to make you shut up, not to let you stare at me like a freak show," Ed hissed, though Roy still got the impression that the anger was mostly a device to mask his embarrassment.

"Don't be ridiculous," he sighed easily, largely brushing past the kid's reluctance. "Why aren't you using bandages? The wounds will dehydrate at this rate." Edward made a grimaced face.

Roy steeled himself and stepped further into the room, causing Ed to back into a corner with an angered exclamation, which was promptly ignored.

"Alphonse, could you give us a moment?" he asked over his shoulder as he moved past the grumbling Edward and peered into the first-aid fit that sat on the sink counter.

"Ah- yes, of course," the younger brother replied and left hastily, seemingly thankful. Roy sympathized, seeing as Al was probably incapable of helping Ed take care of such sensitive injuries; watching from a distance was surely not pleasurable, especially after their little screaming match.

"What do you think you're doing?" Edward snapped a moment after the door to the hall had closed behind Al. "I don't need your help!"

"Are you not covering the wounds? They'll take longer to heal," Roy repeated himself as he shifted through the medical items in search for a properly sized roll of gauze.

"Hey!"

"From the looks of it, I'd recommend stitches, but it seems like you've stopped the bleeding."

"If this is some stupid plot to get me to talk about it, then forget it."

Roy looked up into the mirror, catching Edward's mercurial expression in the reflection. He looked nervous and jumpy, like he was one wrong step away from sprinting out of the room.

Five long diagonal streaks. They probably bled horribly. Roy wondered if his vision was effected by the one that ran straight through his eyebrow and again down his cheek; it looked like it narrowly avoided his eye, but even if not, the kid would be hard-pressed to admit anything.

"Seriously, Fullmetal; are you covering it, or not?"

The kid glowered at him through the mirror. "I did overnight," he huffed through clenched teeth. "But I hate it. There's... there's too much to cover." His tone became despondent as his eyes dropped to stare at the floor.

Roy nearly made the mistake of trying to sympathize. But he couldn't relate; not quite like this, and not in any way that could be helpful. Instead, he unscrewed the lid off a bottle of antibiotics. "It'll need moisture to heal quickly. You should keep it covered."

"Fine, whatever."

"Come here."

Edward blinked and looked at Roy as if he had greatly offended him. "There's nothing you can do that I didn't already try. I'm not an idiot, you know; I know how to care of cuts."

"Then for my sake."

"I don't care about your sake."

Roy rolled his eyes but neared with the antibiotic anyway, prompting Ed to back into a corner and spastically swat away at him. This however drew Roy's attention to the way his automail arm simply hung limp his his side, swaying with his movements.

One thing at a time.

"The hell is wrong with you? You're yelling at me one second and playing doctor the next; I told you I don't wanna talk about it, so cut the act already."

"Then don't talk about it. But when was the last time you put anything on these wounds?" He didn't need to know the details just yet, but the very least he could do was keep Ed from being an idiot.

Edward growled. "I put stuff on it earlier. And I don't need your help."

Roy hummed contemplatively for a moment, then shrugged and left the bottle on the counter. "Alright then, do this yourself," he said as he held out a roll of gauze.

Ed stared at the bandage in muted horror as he only just then realized that one of his arms was not working. "I..." He scowled darkly as his one able hand clenched tightly by his side.

Of course, someone so independent as Fullmetal would despise the idea of requiring help to wrap a bandage around his own head. Roy was sure the kid refused to even attempt to do so along, simply because of how it would look to Alphonse. Though between showing off the injuries or showing off the bandages, the prideful kid could never win. He exposed himself as being damaged either way. Roy understood the desire to appear stronger than he was for the sake of others.

But in this case, acting on that desire would be stupid.

He wanted to emphasis; he wanted to tell the kid that he knew why he resisted, but he also knew Edward would only further resent him for it. He would translate any attempt to be patronizing, and it would get them nowhere.

"Think about it rationally," he tried instead. "Enduring wearing bandages for now may lessen the scarring later on."

Several mute seconds passed as Edward looked like he would much rather be anywhere else. But eventually, he grumbled a halfhearted "fine" with as much reluctance in his voice as possible.

Without risking another word, Roy began unrolling the gauze and went to work on covering the gashes, despite how much Ed squirmed and very pointedly kept from looking at him. He felt like he was handling a wild animal and one wrong move would result in him losing a finger, but he feigned confidence and continued wrapping the long band of gauze over the kid's injuries, brushing his bangs aside despite the impulsive attempts to swat him away.

After a moment as Roy focused primarily on his task before he could begin to acknowledge the discomfort in the air, Edward settled his resistance and opted to speak through the awkward silence instead.

"Did they ever find the stolen notes?" he asked roughly with his eyes set firmly on the wall.

Roy held his breath for a moment, then exhaled deeply. "I haven't heard anything yet, but it's likely."

Edward mumbled something under his breath too quietly to hear, but Roy let it be. Now that he understood Fullmetal's situation, it wasn't difficult to see why they ended up abandoning the notes and returning to Central, though he was sure Edward would have still insisted on finding them if Al hadn't stopped him.

"I'll find out tomorrow."

"Okay," he said quietly. "What _do_ you know, then?"

"Well," Roy drawled as he went to fasten the bandages in place. "I've been given a report of the scene found at the train depot. Nothing incredibly helpful. Blood, alchemy, a dead chimera..."

The following silence passed by as Roy stepped back to examine his work. The frowning child had gauze wrapped across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose and cheek, leaving as little uninjured skin alone as possible- which wasn't saying much.

Roy opened his mouth to announce he was done, but a suddenly serious gleam washed through Edward's eyes, cutting him off.

"Wait," the kid breathed sharply and looked up at Roy. "You said there was only one chimera?"

The colonel blinked as a cold pit began to form in his gut. "Yeah?"

"There were two chimeras."

"Then one of them is still out there," Roy gasped as the realization struck him.

"Shit, this isn't good." Edward stepped back and turned with a frantic air following him. He caught his reflection in the mirror, paused with a frown, then fled to the main room.

"How injured was it? Perhaps it already died from blood loss," Roy tried as he followed.

"I don't know, I... I didn't get a good look." He paused in the middle of the dorm room, then spun around back to the colonel. "Listen, Mustang; these things are _intelligent._ There's no room to underestimate them."

Ordinarily, Roy might have shown some doubt. So far, his only experience with intelligent chimeras were not too impressive. But Tucker's experiments were not known for mauling people.

"Alright, alright," he breathed as he crossed his arms and paced within the little floor space that wasn't already occupied. "This... this might work for us."

"What?"

"I might be able to use this information to make a deal with East Command. If they can clearly wrap up this case, it could ease the pressure on us." At the end of the day, the factors that mattered most was appearance and reputation. Fullmetal stole the victory out from under them, but giving them another chance could lessen the blow.

Roy still expected there to be some public repercussions in regards to Edward, but if it were nothing more than a formality, then Roy would get out relatively unscathed, even as his superior officer.

"Don't you get it? There's a blood thirsty animal out on the loose! And you still only care about how you can gain from it?"

His mind began working to decide what to do with this new information, only mildly aware of the annoyed look that he was being targeted with. With a plan forming, he turned towards the door with Edward glowering behind him. "Don't you worry, Fullmetal; it'll get taken care of."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be kind to me, dear readers; for I was not vibing with this chapter. Upon nearing the last scene here, the part with Ed and Roy that everyone was looking forward to, my brain decided to stop coopering. In fact, it decided that being as difficult and humanly possible was the best course of action. I disagreed, but my opinion was ignored. 
> 
> I'll probably come back here later and edit in more detail and flavor too. But for now, I really can't look at it anymore. :/
> 
> Point being, I intend to take some time to work out the rest of the outline, because my lack of planning really came back to bite me here. The next chapter will probably be delayed, but I hope to get back on schedule after that. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and enduring with me!


	7. Chapter 7

The minutes leading up to a meeting were always disquieting. It didn't matter how prepared Roy was, or even if he was looking forward to whatever was going to transpire. The moments of waiting slowed time to a painful creeping as he sat at his desk, staring impatiently as his clock. It was too early in the day to start any actual work only to get pulled away by the impending phone call, leaving him with nothing to do besides wait.

His coffee mug was nearly empty, but his thoughts were running too quickly to allow room for considering getting a fresh cup.

When his phone finally rang, jarringly loud and abrupt, he let it sit for a moment before answering. Best not to appear too eager.

"Good morning, Colonel Mustang. This is Colonel Myers from East Command," a steeled feminine voice said promptly, giving Roy only a moment to return the greeting.

"Avery Myers; you were a lieutenant colonel last I heard. Congratulations on the promotion." He heard a long sigh on the other end and chuckled amiably. "I don't intend to waste your time, Colonel. There's no need to drag this out anyway; this whole ordeal is nothing more than a miscommunication."

"Hmm, yes, _miscommunication_ is always a favored excuse," she mused, thoroughly unimpressed and making no attempt to hide it. "Let's get right to the point, shall we? I'd like your explanation for involving yourself in one of my cases."

Roy leaned back casually and turning to look absently through the window. He didn't recall having any poor relations with Myers while stationed in the east; in fact, they barely spoke at all, besides for a joint operation or two. He wondered if she was envious of how quickly he climbed the ladder.

"Well for starters, I did not order the Fullmetal Alchemist to go to East City. He and his brother traveled there for personal reasons. As you may remember, he does have a tendency to find trouble; in this case, it seems he happened to trip right into this chimera business."

"Is that so."

"It is. And I'm already taking the necessary steps to see that he is properly reprimanded."

"See that you do," she added stiffly. "Your usual leniency won't be accepted this time."

Roy nearly balked at the accusation, but thought better than to give her a reaction. "Rest assured, Colonel: I'll have everything taken care of."

"Oh I'm sure," she said dubiously. "I merely want to ensure that your definition of _taking care of it_ is the same as mine."

"And how would you define it?"

"I want to see him in a general court martial."

Roy paused for a moment. Despite how casually he mentioned it to Fullmetal the day prior, bringing generals into a court martial was no small matter. However, regardless of his personal interest in the situation, he highly doubted anyone saw Edward's actions to be bad enough for that. If anything, a lesser form of court martial was far more likely. But no, he was sure Myers was only trying to frighten him.

"You and I both know that is unnecessary." He sighed. "Tell me, Myers: what is is that you really want?"

There was a long pause. "This was my largest case since being promoted, and your subordinate has made a mockery of it. Mustang, I want retribution."

Roy smiled thinly as his gaze traveled up to the ceiling. "You and I are the same, Myers. We're the same as every other bloodsucking parasite in the military's ranks; all we want is to look good and pretend we're all more righteous than we are." He could almost feel her glaring warily at him through the phone. "I have something better to offer you than retribution, Colonel."

Another long pause. "And what would that be?"

He smirked inwardly, noting how she didn't even bother to deny his melodramatic claims. "Information."

"What kind of information could you possibly offer me? The case has been closed, and there's nothing else I'm concerned with right now."

"Indeed. But as I was chastising my unruly subordinate the other day, he informed me that the chimera situation hasn't been as nicely tied up as we first thought." He leaned forward again, elbows on the desk as he held the phone close, as if someone would overhear. "This could be your chance to redeem yourself to your superiors. Tie up this loose end, and they'll forget about Fullmetal's involvement."

She scoffed from the other end, and spoke darkly. "If you have such an important piece of intel, why share it with me instead of swooping in on it for yourself?"

"Because I don't want to be involved in this," he stated lowly. "We're in the same boat, you and I. Fullmetal getting himself into this will only drag me down with him. I'm already the black sheep in Central right now, and I can't afford this kind of attention."

"So that's why you don't want him to get court martialed; you don't want your record to get tainted in the process." There was a pause, and then she laughed softly. "To think, the mighty Flame Alchemist would struggle so much to get a foothold in Central."

"All in due time, Myers."

He heard an impassive _hmph_ through the line. "Regardless, this all depends entirely on the quality of your information."

Roy found himself tapping his fingers against the hardwood desk in thought. He couldn't progress any further without revealing the details, but he had no form of insurance if she were to simply take it without making any kind of agreement. He could stretch the conversation out, try to get something out of her before sharing what he knew but that would pose the risk of annoying her. It was a gamble, but he felt confident in it. They all knew how this game was played.

"The report detailing the scene from the train depot mentioned the corpse of a large chimera."

"And?"

According to Fullmetal, he fought against _two_ chimeras."

The line went silent for a moment, as he could almost hear the gears turning. "And one is still on the loose," she surmised, unable to keep the piqued interest out of her tone.

"It's only a matter of time before it shows itself and stirs up the public again. You'd best find it soon."

"Yes... I should."

"And Fullmetal?"

"Well," she clicked her tongue reluctantly. "I'll hardly have time to deal with that for the time being."

That was good enough for him.

"How unfortunate," he sung casually as his smirk slipped into his tone.

In return, Myers gave a mirthless scoff. "Just for my own curiosity, what exactly do you have planned for that child? I wouldn't put it past you to give him a mere slap on the wrist, after managing to worm your way out of the spotlight."

"Contrary to popular belief," Roy began, lacking no amount of weary sarcasm, "I'm just as tired of Fullmetal's antics. Given that my only issue with a court martial is the formal aspect, I intend to follow through with what the results might have been; such as a temporary suspicion from service and allowance."

Suspicion would have carried much more weight before Roy learned that Edward currently had no desire to leave the confines of his dorm. He hoped putting a hold on his income would have some kind of effect, but he honestly doubted there was currently anything Roy could do to get the message into the kid's head; especially now, that he was so rightfully distracted.

Roy partially wanted to say that Fullmetal had been punished enough by the scars he had earned himself, but his sense of professionalism couldn't just leave it at that. Something more needed to happen, even if it had almost no effect.

"Maybe I'll throw in a few hours of community service." He was also still considering enforcing a written apology, but he decided to keep that to himself for the time being.

In response, Myers laughed, cutting through some of the tension that had persisted through the call. "That's not a bad idea, Mustang."

"I'm glad to hear you say so," Roy replied with a smile as he turned back to look idly out his window. There were still a few more steps that needed to happen before he could put this incident behind him, but until then, things were going smoothly.

* * *

Edward's single able hand gripped the edge of the basin sink. The once cool metal had since warmed due to how long he stayed there, leaning towards the mirror, glaring at himself. He didn't intend to remain there for so long, but he couldn't pull his eyes away from the image that stared back.

Bandages wrapped around his head, some hidden by his hair, other parts on full display, impossible to hide- impossible to deny. He had changed the bandages not long ago to replace the ones that had been bloodstained as the day passed. The wounds were healing, but they sometimes still got irritated back into bleeding when he tossed and turned in the night. The gauze wrapping had helped, as Mustang said they would; as Edward _knew_ they would, but he still maintained his reluctance.

At least in low lighting, the ugly gashes were not easily seen. But with the off-white bandages coiled around his head, there was no way to hide the shameful truth. He might as well had worn a sign on his forehead that read _I'm injured, look at me!_

He hated it. He hated it _so much._

Every quick glance of his reflection, every light brush of the soft fabric against his skin, he was reminded of what happened with a kick to his gut, re-sparking the snapping, waspish anger that festered in his chest. It would build and build, slowly draining his energy until he managed to distract himself temporarily.

He wasn't equipped to hold in so much frustration. He would usually let it out by yelling at Mustang or beating up some criminal, or at the very least, a sparing match with Al. This time around, he stubbornly refused to give himself any of his usual coping methods.

Eventually, Edward decided that it all came down to _justification._ Even when others did not agree, he was confident enough to always be sure of his emotions. When he was angry, it was because he had a good reason for it. If he was annoyed, then something rightfully caused it.

But this rage was not justified.

Even then, people might still disagree. Al tried to tell him otherwise; kept saying it was okay to feel upset; but Al didn't realize the full scope of it. Hell, Ed barely understood it himself. Any attempt to think through his own irritation caused his thoughts to eventually get muddled, resulting in him only becoming more annoyed.

From failing to find the stolen notes, to what that meant in regards to his pitiable attempts to redeem the Nina situation somewhat, from how Mustang acted before Ed decided to oust himself, and the fact that the second chimera was still running around somewhere. Another failure on his behalf, he supposed.

A knock at the door jarred Edward out of his hazardously spinning thoughts. He straightened up and whirled away from the mirror, quickly stomping out the rush of panic he felt spark in his chest. I _t was only Alphonse, idiot._

He took a deep breath and opened the door, bellying his stagnant discomfort as Al's gaze naturally fell on him.

"Yeah?" he asked, quieter than intended.

"...you were in there for a while. Just making sure you're okay."

Edward forced a thin half-smile onto his partially obscured face as he stepped past his brother and into the main room. "Thanks, Al," he willed himself to say, rather than explain himself. Ed appreciated his concern for him, and was well-aware that Alphonse was far more concerned with the way he had been acting over the abjectly non-threatening cuts on his face. And yet, Edward's desire to avoid eye-contact did not care how logical his argument was.

Ed paused in the middle of the room, noting that their current collection of library books had all been gathered and moved into neat stacks by the exit. They did that whenever they were planning to return them. He fiercely began to wonder if Al knew that he had started to reread some of them in favor of getting new ones.

"I uh..." Al hesitated as he watched Ed silently stare towards the door. "I was thinking about getting some new books today. But I can go by myself."

Edward's throat tightened and he felt his shoulders tense. No matter how much he tried to hide it, no matter how much he smiled, he couldn't keep a single thing from Alphonse. He wanted so dearly for Al to see the image of himself that Edward wanted to be true; strong and confident, indifferent of how the world saw him, unbothered by all circumstances. He wanted to think that if he could convince just one person that he was capable of holding himself high regardless of the gruesome wounds that were evidence of his incompetence, then maybe he could believe it too. But if that one person was anyone less than Alphonse, then it would never mean anything.

He sighed as the mild pain in his lungs reminded him to breathe. He curled his one fist by his side, still unable to get the automail to work properly, and tried to smile. "That's okay, Al. I'll... I'll go with you."

Alphonse hesitated. "Are you sure? It's really no trouble."

"No, I- I want to."

"...but-" Al trailed off as Edward moved to pick up a stack of books, holding them against his side as his right arm hung limply.

There was a long pause and Alphonse debated within himself, before he finally relented. "Alright, if you say so."

Edward smiled again, just a little more honestly as a meek voice far back in his mind commended his bravery. He ignored the rougher voice that said there was nothing to be proud of. But the smile quickly faltered as his thoughts strayed to the reality of actually walking outside, and he was suddenly struck by how vulnerable he felt. His eye naturally began to search for his coat, wanting to hide under the hood, but was reminded for not the first time that day that he was yet to make a new one. He hadn't had any spare fabric, and insisted that he didn't need it immediately to keep Al from further worrying about him.

Burying his regret, Edward forced his posture to straighten, to look a little more confident than he felt, and followed the uncertain suit of armor out into the hall, books in tow.

The walk through the dorm halls was silent as Ed focused on keeping his composure, and Al strained for any conversation topics that could help distract his older brother.

As far as his newfound self consciousness was concerned, Edward wasn't overly concerned with traveling through the military campus. The dorm was mostly inactive around lunch time, and it was an easy walk to the perimeter wall. Besides, soldiers didn't tend to stare at the wounds of others.

That said, the desire to rip off the bandages and keep his head down burned fiercely in his chest, rising in strength with every step.

"Is there anything in particular you want to look for when we get there?" Al asked amiably, masking his unease.

"Not sure," Ed replied honestly. He had not been thinking about it.

Soon, they were walking through the lawn, casually avoiding the patrolling soldiers. The sky was overcast and dim despite the sun holding itself high, and the cooled air was refreshing. Out of view from anyone else, some of the stress alleviated itself as Edward walked through the soft grass. For a blissful moment, it was just him and Al and the grass and the air, and nothing was wrong.

He had been cooped up in the dorm for three days by then.

It was nice.

But just as quickly as the good feeling came, it vanished in an instant as Edward's eyes fell on the perimeter wall, steadily nearing the front gate.

Alphonse asked him how long he wanted to stay at the library. Ed said it didn't matter.

The nervousness had grown until a heavy weight was left in his stomach. His airways strained and his focus wavered, but he kept his eyes set on the gate. Through it and down the grand staircase, he would have to somehow navigate through the crowds of daily foot traffic. He would have to ignore their stares, drilling into his skull.

Edward never cared about people's passing opinions of him. He stomped around the country in a bright red coat and two metal limbs. He never _cared._

But even then, it wasn't about their opinions. Regardless of what thoughts passed through their heads, their gazes were crushing and the wounds under the bandages would burn as he became more aware of them- aware of what they represented.

None of it was supposed to happen.

No one gained anything; not even knowledge or experience that could become relevant later. In all likelihood, East Command would have found the bio-alchemist before much longer, making Edward's attempts completely pointless.

It was all pointless.

_Pointless._

"Brother!"

Edward gasped, greedily sicking in air that he hadn't realized he had deprived himself of, and blinked focus back into his eyes. He had frozen at the edge of the field and dropped every book he was holding. Confused by his own actions, he looked up at Al, painfully aware of the mix of pathetic emotions his half obscured face was surely giving off.

Without sparing another word, Alphonse dropped his stack of books along the sidewalk and guided Edward towards the tall concrete wall, away from sight of anyone that were to pass by. Hidden within the shadows cast by his brother and the wall, Edward felt his airways loosen and breathing became a little easier.

"Are you okay?" Al asked, bellying his frantic worry only slightly as he placed a grounding hand on Ed's arm.

He focused on the contact and the question, willing the previous dizziness out of his head. His breathing was still slightly labored as he struggling to compose himself. His heart was beating too quickly. "Yeah," he said after a strained swallow. "I just... panicked."

Alphonse looked him softly, empathetically, and gave a single slow nod of understanding. "Let's go back to the room."

"...n-no, it's okay. I'll be fine, Al. I-"

"No," Al cut in, forcing Ed to stop. He didn't raise his voice, but the conviction and certainty in his tone left little room for argument. "There's nothing you need to prove to me, Brother."

"I-"

"Stop thinking of yourself as a burden."

Edward gaped, thrown off of his already fragile train of thought. They had never truly discussed what Ed may or may not have thought of himself- not in detail, anyway. But they both knew.

"We haven't even talked about new plans to get our bodies back since this happened," Edward huffed as he stared at the ground. "And the books we've been reading have nothing to do with it. We might as well be reading fiction at this point. We're wasting time and it's because of me."

"Maybe it's okay to waste time every now and again."

"Al-" Ed snapped his focus back onto his brother, who continued before he could refute the statement.

"You're _healing._ Let yourself heal."

Edward folded his arms, again wishing he had his coat. "Scars take too long to heal."

"But it's not just the scars that are bothering you, right?"

Ed blinked up at his brother, left speechless by the observation. It was almost baffling how little he could get away with when Alphonse was involved.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to give some kind of answer. "Come on, let's head back. The library can wait a little longer."

With a deep sigh, Ed nodded. "Yeah, okay," he mumbled as they both went to pick up the books. His emotions were torn, but overall, he decided to just revel in the relief, and leave his pestering regret to be sorted through later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is a slightly late chapter. ;u; This week has been surprisingly busy with Things, and I'm not so sure if these Things will clear up as promptly as I'd like. Soooooo for now, I'm not going to hold myself too tightly to the weekly update schedule. I'll still be aiming for it, but,,, we'll see how it goes! This fic is getting close to ending anyhow. 
> 
> Thanks again for all of the support and comments I've been getting!!!


	8. Chapter 8

"Brother?"

Edward's eyes snapped up from his journal, where he had been busying himself with translating recent notes into the proper code. It was nothing particularly important, and lacked the personal touch that all notes worth ciphering required. He was unabashedly wasting paper in his travel notebook solely for the sake of distracting himself.

Alphonse was standing by the doorway, arms carrying two impressive stacks of library books. Edward grimaced as memories of yesterday's failed attempt struck him in the head, leaving an uncomfortable pang in it's wake.

"I'm going to go trade these in, okay? It won't take long."

Ed felt his attention trail back to his old leather-bound journal, unwilling to hold the eye contact with Al; he was always afraid of what he would see, be it pity or sadness or a brave front to hide something else.

"That's fine, Al," he said, injecting a feigned nonchalance into his tone. He then worked his mind for something else to add- something normal and unbothered. "Don't forget to grab the next volume by that guy that talks about the neo-hermeticist interpretations."

"Yep. We're on volume six, right?"

"Yeah."

Daring to glance back at him from across the room, he could sense Al had latched onto the careful easiness of the conversation, teetering around any real issues, both desperate for some sense of simplicity. Edward felt torn on it; he despised being anything but transparently blunt, especially to his brother, but he craved so severely for just _anything else._

"Looks like it's going to rain later," Alphonse added after a beat. "I'll try to get back before then."

Edward's head bobbed once in acknowledgment, only then noticing the umbrella that was leaning against the door frame. They usually didn't bother keeping Al out of the rain when it was light, and avoided it all-together when it was coming down hard. But considering he would be traveling with a number of books, it was better to be safe than sorry.

All the books and an umbrella- it looked like a lot to carry. Edward felt his slight smile falter at the thought of it; he should have been able to help.

But no, no, he tried that already. He tried to prove something already and failed miserably. He was going to be supportive and encouraging and show that he had accepted things for how they were, rather than stubbornly trying to deny reality.

"Okay," he nudged himself to say amiably. "See you soon."

Alphonse returned the sentiment, picked up the umbrella to hold between his arm and body as he juggled the collection of books, and left the room. Edward stared in the empty space for a long moment, lips pursed, as his mind buzzed with a low hum- up until he turned back around to look down at his notebook.

Surely that was all proof that he was healing somehow. Al said he just needed to sit back and heal, after all- after that miserable stunt from the other day.

Still, he nearly writhed with impatience. He was never good at sitting still. He wanted to rip both of the literal and hypothetical bandages off, run outside, and move on already. But he couldn't, because he knew he would freeze up the moment eyes fell on him. And why? _Why?_ It was so unlike him. He dueled with the same droning thoughts every day, close to every hour; sometimes he managed to fall on some kind of conclusion that would allow him to rest easily for a short moment. Other times, he wasn't able to make it that far. He would just get so fed up with the voice in his head, that he would cut the mental conversation off, all while fighting the urge to bash his head into a wall.

It didn't help that his go-to solution was to list off every individual problem that was stacking up. _Nina, the stolen notes, the bio-alchemist, the chimeras, the scars-_ it seemed so simple when he listed it out; too simple for him to be as angry about it as he was.

Edward was certain it was only getting progressively worse, too. Every day he trapped himself inside, whether it be smiling to Al, or glaring at his reflection in the bathroom, he could feel himself growing more resentful.

He almost felt a little better after Mustang had barged into their dorm and forced him to wear the bandages that marked him as some broken child. He thought that finally communicating to the colonel that he was struggling with it would lighten some of the weight that hung over his chest. And it did, for maybe a few minutes.

And then he was left alone again- alone with this thoughts that had been tainted by the chimera's blood as it snapped and clawed at him from between the metal crates.

Not all things could be listed out and reasoned with and result in finding a better conclusion. There was no reasoning behind what happened. There was no sense in the way he felt his heart skip a beat whenever a dog barked in the distance.

So many little things, slowing chipping away at him.

And to make matters worse, Mustang was going to manipulate the whole situation in his favor, as he always did; despite the evidence that this wasn't the time for his usual power-hungry bullshit.

Mustang, even with all of his confidence and stoicism, was still left speechless at the sight of Ed. He wasn't sure what that said.

With a heavy groan, Edward forced his eyes back into focus as he absently adjusting his weight. As he shifted by the desk, his gaze caught the faint glimmer of the abandoned screwdriver from his last attempt to fix his arm. Without much thought, he picked it up, twirled it between his fingers, and dropped his gaze back down to his arm.

Edward dropped his heavy automail arm onto the desk and quickly began working on unscrewing the protective outer plating around his shoulder and bicep. He exposed number of wires that intertwined through mechanisms, varying in thickness and importance. Several screws held together multiple metal shields, curving around the wires, keeping them from getting caught in the complex machinery, and also getting in his way. Last time Edward tried to open the inner shielding to see if any wires had been dislodged or torn, he heard a concerning clanking sound from within and promptly left it alone; he was too hesitant to risk expediting his next meeting with Winry.

But now, he would risk it if it meant regaining some mobility, and giving himself something else to think about for a while.

Some of the screws holding the cylindrical plating in place put up unusual resistance, but some minutes of persistence got the casing to open. Inside, the several colorful wires that were being held together splayed apart as they trailed up the shoulder and disappeared into their designated locations within the port.

Edward noticed the odd one out rather quickly. The rubber surrounding of one of the cords had been torn at one specific location, exposing the fraying copper from within. Upon seeing an actual problem, Ed felt himself brighten; it was a relatively refreshing feeling, but he decided not to dwell on that as he wasted no time in repairing it. A light touch between his hands and a gentle touch of the copper sealed the damage, followed by fixing the rubber covering as well.

Looking at the metal shell itself and the screws that held it shut, Edward deduced that one of the screws had been dislodged from the proper threads when his arm was being tugged on, and cut into the wire in the process.

Any concerns regarding _how_ felt incredibly irrelevant the moment he tentatively tried to move his arm and was shocked to find that it actually _worked._

Partially.

His elbow bent, slowly, hesitantly, and he didn't yet know if it was due to further damages, or because of his own trepidation. It didn't matter; it had fixed it! He had finally fixed _something._

Edward let out a shaky breath as he stared at his own limb move on command as if hadn't been only a few days; as if he didn't break the thing every few months already. This was different because _he_ fixed it.

However, the elbow was as far as it would ago. His wrist and fingers still refused to respond, and Ed knew his victory was only a partial one. But it was something. It was still something.

He leaned back in the chair and tried to lift his arm over his head, but mechanisms in his shoulder strained, requiring support from the rest of his heavy arm to complete the motion. With the lower half still immobile, he couldn't do much with it.

Somehow, Edward found great comfort in knowing that he no longer had to walk around with an unnatural swing to his arm. He could at least pretend that he wasn't as damaged as he really was. He could give the onlookers one less thing to stare at.

Of course, it hardly mattered. After all, he shouldn't care about what anyone thought they they looked at him.

Every night, he thought about the way certain people would look at him once they saw. The rest of the team would hide their pity the best they could. They had all seen and earned their own scars. But it would pain them too; the same way anything reminded them that Edward was only fifteen and shouldn't be where he was.

Winry was the worst of it. She would cry at the sight of him. He would force her to break her promise to them, and for something so pointless- something so painfully irrelevant to their goal, their quest, of restoring their bodies. It was just a mistake. A senseless mistake- such a short moment of thoughtlessness.

Granny would no-doubt be horrified, and attempt to mask it with scorn for the military, implying it wasn't his fault, but theirs. Hughes would probably take it very seriously and not allow Ed to simply laugh it off, as he had attempted to do before. He wasn't sure how Elicia would react; probably too innocently for him to bear. The same could also likely be said for Nina, if she were-

Edward vehemently shook his head, willing the thoughts out, forcibly cutting off that tangent before he could continue down it.

With an irritable huff, he quickly went to work on replacing all of the pieces he had removed from his arm, deciding to try again later. He then forced himself to his feet and scanned his eyes over the room, realizing that his thoughts were straying into unhealthy territory. Nothing caught his attention; there was nothing to do. But he needed something- something, anything, or else the cruel, mocking tones in the back of his mind would take advantage of his lack of a distraction.

He flexed his automail shoulder and elbow, absently sighing at how his fingers still hung limply. Ed could continue to tinker with it, but he feared continuing the same task would only allow his mind to wander back into the same bottomless hole. He was sure he would lose focus too quickly.

Migrating back towards the window, Edward shifted the blinds and peered down at the freshly cut grass lawn outside of the building, desaturated by the heavy clouds. He saw a few soldiers walking together further ahead, but the area was otherwise empty. He could walk around outside, get some fresh air, but that would do little to keep his thoughts from spiraling.

He spun from the window and began to pace through the short span of the room, wearily running a hand through his hair.

_Something to do, what to do..._

_Stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking._

Edward's eyes jumped down to a book pushed slightly under the bed, pausing his moments and his mind for a moment. He nearly lunged for it through desperation, turning the cover over with his one working hand. It was one of the many library books that Alphonse was going to return. Forgetting it would be an inconvenience later, but Edward was just grateful to have something to read.

Remaining where he was on the floor besides the bed, he flipped through the pages. He remembered reading a portion of this one before, but giving up after finding it mostly irrelevant. He had since read through the whole thing later in an attempt to kill time. He was right before; it didn't say anything that was particularly new. It focused largely on theoretical applications of alchemy in a large array of circumstances; nothing as specific as reclaiming a body that was trapped behind the gate, but it was enough to keep his interest.

He skipped through the introduction passage and started to read. However, he got about a paragraph in until the meaning behind the sentences began to falter in his mind, distracted by the ever-growing howling in the back of his skull. He shook his head again, trying to block it out, grasping for the words in front of his eyes, internally screaming each one to drown out the voices that wanted to pull him away.

_Shut up, shut up, just focus!_

He doubled down, squinting hard at the letters, willing them to echo loudly in retaliation. He read through the same lines, over and over again, engaging in a screaming match with his own unruly thoughts. Until finally, he realized he failed to get through even the first page despite the minutes that had passed, and impulsively tossed the book aside with a irritable growl.

Edward pressed his palm over his eye and leaned back against the bed.

He couldn't even read a damn book.

But every moment he allowed himself to sit there and do nothing, the whispers continued, overlapping each other, increasing in volume and persistence, wanting so badly to pull him right down into that pit.

But allowing those thoughts to take control only served to make him irrationally angry. It wasn't healthy to dwell on them. Things people have said, things they might say, the way they looked at him, the way they might look at him-

He needed to focus on only the things that mattered, instead of his mistakes and the consequences.

What mattered?

Alphonse. Al was always most important.

What else? Home mattered. Resembool. Winry and Granny. His scars shouldn't matter there. Their reactions to it don't matter.

And yet...

Edward pushed himself to his feet, picking up the book in the same motion.

He couldn't do this anymore. Perhaps in just an attempt to spite himself, he decided that he was going to leave the room. He was going to walk outside. He was going to accomplish something. He was going to distract himself.

Why? To prove a point? Again? Wasn't he done with that? Trying to do that had done him no good lately. Why couldn't be just accept what happened and move on? It was in the past. It didn't need to hurt anymore.

But the consequences remained in the present. It _did_ still hurt. Every time he redid the bandages. Every time he turned his head the wrong way over his pillow. Every time he looked at himself, it hurt.

It shouldn't. It shouldn't. It _shouldn't_.

It had no right to still hurt!

Unrealistic expectations for the wounds to close were one thing, but the dull ache in his chest that endured, slowly toiling away at his shaky barriers, was another. Every brief moment of remembrance fueled it, which was nearly constant. Every hour he managed to go without thinking about the gashes across his face was bliss in comparison.

But despite his attempts, the whispers remained just out of reach. It felt like he would never be able to stop returning to that dark place. Every night, all throughout the day, his traitorous mind would allow those thoughts back in to spin around his head like vultures; baleful and vindictive.

He hated it, he hated it, _god_ , he hated it so much.

Edward only wanted to go more than a few minutes without being haunted by hypothetical conversations that could potentially happen, despite the fact that he _knew_ they were being grossly exaggerated in his mind. He could feel himself growing more cynical with every day it persisted.

Hell, he already had that conversation with Mustang, and yet he couldn't help but replay the same conversation with twice the malice for no goddamn reason.

He imagined the people he cared for most would turn on him for his idiocy, would call him out on it, would not allow the problem to rest. Surely everyone already knew that his original objective was only to keep what happened to Nina from happening to anyone else. His motives were good, but turned out to be completely pointless, as the bio-alchemist had no interest in involving humans in the first place. The man could have changed his mind. He could have done anything with those notes. But it didn't matter, because Edward failed to do anything substantial, and he wouldn't be able to hide it.

People wouldn't forget so easily. They wouldn't allow him to forget either, regardless of what they claimed. No matter who said _it was okay,_ they would keep on thinking that it wasn't. It wasn't okay. He wasn't okay.

_No, no, no, stop!_

Edward dropped his head into his hand, squeezing the bridge of his nose as his jaw tensed with frustration. He had told himself to stop thinking about it, and immediately spun back around into the same damn train. That's how it always went. He couldn't make it stop!

He needed an actual distraction.

Bringing this one last book back to the library would be his motivation. Alphonse would likely be leaving the library soon. If he hurried, he could catch him there and they could walk back together. And he didn't care how many strangers saw him, or how many pitiful glances he received.

Well, no, the idea still stirred up a deep discomfort in his gut, but it would at least distract from the destructive thoughts that circled around in his head, if just slightly. He would rather worry about strangers and be hyper-aware of his injuries than listen to the poisonous whispers. It was like pulling attention away from one injury by inflicting another; a concept that came from a dumb joke that got tossed around as children.

On his way out, he paused at the door, hand outstretched to the nob as his automail arm pressed the book against his side. He then turned back around, looking through the open door to the restroom, and stared back at his reflection. He gingerly brushed his fingers over the bandages, debating if he should just rip them off. The white fabric around his head drew too much attention. But the wounds underneath were scabbing over, and he would likely just garner disgust from anyone who got too close.

If he spent too much time thinking about it, he would lose hold of the courage needed to step outside. With a decisive sigh, Edward turned his back to the mirror and walked out.

* * *

Colonel Mustang and Colonel Myers had come to a mutually beneficial agreement, where they both would get what they wanted. Roy would be left to his own devices in regards to Fullmetal, keeping the higher echelon of the military out of it, and Avery Myers would get to wrap up the chimera case and earn a few points in the eyes of her superiors.

Of course, this all relied on that missing chimera showing itself. Nearly a week had passed since Fullmetal chased it out of the train depot near East City. They were now playing a waiting game with it. Which was fine with Roy; he would welcome all the spare time he could get.

He knew there were still others who were watching the situation from a distance. Fullmetal's actions had created too many ripples to not have gotten anyone else's attention. Given how prideful some members of the military proved to be, he knew he had to act soon. It was a difficult situation; torn from wanting to make a point to his unruly subordinate by enforcing some kind of punishment that he would actually acknowledge and be somewhat affected by- enough not to pull the same stunt again. While on the other hand, he was battling against the realization that the kid had been traumatized by something that would leave even the most hardened of soldiers shaken.

It shouldn't matter, Roy told himself. Before anything else, he was the kid's boss, and he needed to act like it. It was a shame that enforcing anything that would truly make Fullmetal pause were all the things that would harm Alphonse as well. At the end of the day, everything else was insignificant in comparison to his brother. That said, Roy couldn't bring himself to take advantage of that just to prove a point. He wouldn't drag the younger Elric into this.

That only left following through with the suggestions he shared with Myers the other day, though he still doubted their effectiveness. Still, it was something. It would be enough to sate the onlookers.

Regardless, Roy wasn't interesting it letting Fullmetal occupy too much space in his mind. While the chimera case was technically no longer his concern, he had told Myers that he would have his contact in the investigations department keep an open ear for any clues as to where the last chimera might be. In return for his additional assistance, she would share more of the reports regarding the bio-alchemist.

He told himself his interest in it lied primarily in the fact that he was mildly involved in the initial theft report back when he was at East City. Knowing that Fullmetal might benefit from it was nothing more than an afterthought.

Only when the workday was nearing its end did Roy finally find the time to dig through the documents that were surreptitiously delivered from the east. Fleeing into his inner office yet again, he opened the envelope addressed to him, and began shifting through the inside folder's contents with a little too much eagerness. Rain pattered constantly against the window, keeping the room dark despite the bright lamps that fought to fend it off.

The first thing to catch his attention was an intelligence report on the bio-alchemist.

Joseph Lyons, age twenty five, resident of Cameron; a smaller town near East City. From the sources they spoke with, he had developed an interest in alchemy as a teenager and quickly focused in on bio-alchemy. Given his age and apparent capability, Roy wouldn't be shocked if someone already planned on waiting for this to blow over before attempting to recruit him into the state alchemist program.

Apparently, he had moved to East City about two years ago. Using that information, the police found his apartment and the stolen notes along with it. It took a while for them to shift through the large collection of other works that had been haphazardly thrown around the place. And it was about time; that research material had caused far too much drama.

Well, Fullmetal would be relieved to hear that. Being unable to follow through on his intentions back in East City was surely weighing on him. Roy considered calling the kid to tell him this, but he wasn't keen on expending the effort to dial in his number just to say one measly little fact.

Pushing the thought away with ease, the colonel flipped through the pages again, settling on one that detailed an interrogation session with Lyons.

The report detailed that the alchemist was covered in a series of bandages and bruises from before being detained; Roy wondered if he got those from his scuffle with the Elrics, or from the act of training dangerous chimeras.

_Officer: What were your intentions with engaging in the transmutation of chimeras?_

_Lyons: Practice? Training? Call it what you will. An alchemist needs to experiment._

_*Lyons shows signs of discomfort._

_Officer: The biological makeup of the chimera we examined showed evidence that you prioritized enhancing psychical ability. What were your intentions?_

_*Lyons does not answer._

_Officer: What were your intentions?_

Roy smiled grimly, almost pitying the bio-alchemist. He was fairly sure the bio-alchemist wasn't hurt while being questioned, but the military had not proven to be beyond making threats, unfortunately.

_Lyons: Alright, I- I wasn't planning anything. I just wanted to see how far I could push it._

_Officer: Have you at any point considered selling the alchemic designs to a group or individual of an enemy nation?_

_Lyons: No._

Even without meeting him, Roy wasn't sure if he would have believed that claim. While he understood any alchemist needing to experiment and practice their craft, putting so much effort specifically into the strength and intelligence of a chimera, as Fullmetal had informed, was obviously a dangerous thing to do without planning to gain anything in return. With the political climate they were in, selling weaponized chimeras wasn't much of a stretch.

_Officer: Two months ago, how did you learn of Shou Tucker's death and the location of the transport van that held his research material?_

_Lyons: I watched._

_Officer: Elaborate._

_Lyons: I... There wasn't much existing research on the formulation and method I was working on, but I knew Tucker had success with it, based on that talking chimera from a year ago. I was getting desperate; thinking about approaching him or... Uh, well, before deciding anything, I saw that something happened there, and the military closed the area off. The next day, they were still taking things out of his house. I admit it was impulsive, but I saw an opportunity and took it._

_Officer: You used a chimera to break into the van?_

_Lyons: Yes. But it was only that one that was capable of tearing through metal like that. It was still an early test though; that chimera died a few days later._

Roy thought back to when he saw the shredded remains of the evidence transport van. It was raining that day too, he realized as his attention was temporarily distracted by the rhythmic tapping against the glass behind him. He didn't like noticing the similarity; it gave him a bad feeling. Familiar whispers of the day he spent standing in the dead Tucker's residence returned with a chill running down his spine.

Ridiculous.

He shook his head, banishing those memories away- the echo of heavy rain hitting the glass, casting blurry shadows over the disturbing lab, the rattling of a chain-link fence as he was forced to analyze himself, his actions, his past, his future, all in light of the damned leftover research of a dead alchemist. He wasn't in the best mentality back then. Perhaps the rain had something to do with it, he wondered dourly as he glanced back at the poor weather behind him.

The situation had put him in a bad mindset, those few months ago. He fought to appear unaffected in order to properly push Fullmetal to move on without appearing as a hypocrite, but there was a persistent voice that asked how easily he could have ended up like Tucker; warped by power and desperation, greed, selfishness.

Seemingly without provocation, remnants of a conversation he had with Fullmetal jumped to the surface of his thoughts.

_There's a blood thirsty animal out on the loose! And you still only care about how you can gain from it?_

He wasn't wrong for focusing on reaping in the benefits. He always needed to manipulate the situation into his favor; it was the only way to survive.

Fullmetel was glaring at him as he had already fallen deep into thought, planning, scheming. He glared through the bandages that Roy forced over his injuries, he glared through his newfound strain to keep eye contact, and he glared through whatever pressure threatened to keep his head down and shoulders tense.

Roy paused in his absent skimming through loose papers, sparing a moment to think back on that moment. He struggled to pull up the mental image, realizing that he hadn't given the kid's reaction a second thought back then.

But he wasn't wrong to stay focused on his objectives. The kid was fine; or he would be fine, at least. It wasn't Roy's job to coddle him.

That said, he was fully aware that he simply could not understand the brand of horror Edward experienced. A massive abomination standing over him, streaking its unnaturally large claws across his face, snapping its jaws, surely aiming for his neck, just inches away from being mauled to death- with some kind of intelligence in its bloodthirsty eyes.

However, acknowledging that didn't mean he was any less blind than Tucker was.

But he wasn't blind. He was sure of it...

Tucker's ambition and fear caused him to disregard his own daughter.

Roy's ambition (and fear of drawing too much attention before getting a decent foothold in Central) caused him to... to what? Disregard his subordinate? Short of forcing him into a hospital, there wasn't much he could do for the kid. Roy wasn't expected to do anything else for him anyway.

Roy huffed and closed the folder, ideally closing the lid on these thoughts in the process. He would be much happier not needing to consider such things, especially so randomly. Fullmetal had already shared his big embarrassing secret with him; there was nothing else to look into there.

And yet, a persistent throb of annoyance hung in the back of his head as a reminder that he was lying to himself.

As if purely to spite himself and the invasive thoughts that had no right to distract him, Roy's eyes fell on his phone, which he moved to pick up immediately after. While he wasn't entirely sure where he got the notion that making the call would somehow put the vexation to rest, he acted on it anyway and dialed in the dorm room's number.

It had to be plain old guilt, he supposed as he leaned back in his chair as the phone rung. Guilt that he liked to think was unwarranted; he _told_ those kids not to pursue the chimeras. But the reality remained that his subordinate got hurt and he did nothing about it besides make deals with another colonel. Meanwhile, his subordinate suffering continued.

Roy frowned at that.

And then his frown deepened as the ringing stopped and there was no answer.

Surely Fullmetal had no more reason to ignore him. And he wouldn't leave the dorm in his current mindset, right?

Unless he did, but-

He tried again, and still no answer.

Roy turned back over his shoulder, staring thoughtfully at the rainfall.

No, too many things didn't add up. He wasn't sure if they didn't add up in any way that warranted concern, however. He told himself there was no real reason to worry despite the oddity of it all, but even so, there was a foreboding weight in the air.

Surely it was just the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, my guys. :') So much for sticking close to weekly updates, amiright? I somehow always tend to get busy when I'm actively posting a fic. Ain't that just my luck.
> 
> But anyway. More angst and setting up. Getting real close to some more of the spicy stuff that I know you are all here for. I don't want to promise anything, given how this update went, but I believe the next one won't take two weeks to get out.~
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


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